Blood Call
by Blue-Five
Summary: Re-imagining of Teen Wolf. First effort at Sterek.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER:** All chapters of this work are fiction using characters from the Teen Wolf universe. I do not claim any ownership over them or the world of Teen Wolf. This work is solely for entertainment purposes and is not considered film or tv canon (not by a long shot).

* * *

Derek Hale heard the sounds of two individuals traipsing through the woods. Moving toward them, he cataloged what he was hearing – a splash as they leapt not-so-gracefully across a small stream, the crunching of leaves and twigs beneath their sneakered feet, and two distinct scents. The first scent he knew easily … a beta. The alpha's new pack starter, apparently. The second scent … Derek froze. He stood as still as the trees surrounding him and struggled with what he was smelling … and feeling.

It was like a thousand needles pricking his skin all at the same time … he was cold and hot and for a moment he couldn't hear anything but a heartbeat that thundered in his ears. Doubling over, Derek struggled to get control of the assault on his senses. It wasn't painful per se … in fact, he found he didn't mind the sensations much at all once the endorphins kicked in and he began to relax a little.

His mate … the new beta was walking through the woods with his mate. His true mate – the one he was destined for and that was destined for him. It was a very male scent but Derek didn't care about that … gender labels were for humans. Derek was experiencing the call of another's blood to his … and he welcomed it. Taking a deep breath, he opened his senses to the woods and took in as much information as he could before confronting the pair.

Voices.

"I can hear things I shouldn't be able to hear … smell things … "

Derek pursed his lips. The beta apparently had no idea what was happening to him. That was going to prove problematic. The answering voice made his breath catch slightly.

"Smell things? Like what?"

His mate. Young, but that was to be expected considering the beta was still in high school and apparently they were friends.

"Like the mint mojito gum in your pocket," the beta said.

"I don't even have any Mint Mojito …" Derek's mate replied.

There was a rustle and a pause. Derek could smell the gum himself but he was impressed that the beta had been able to single it out from the hundreds of other smells that permeated the world at any given moment. He heard his mate put the gum back in a pocket.

"So all this started with a bite." the boy asked.

Derek felt disappointment well up. His mate was not only young, but his sound and scent made him obviously very human. Still, not a deal-breaker. He allowed himself a small smile at that – this was his true mate … it would take something far worse than he could imagine to make Derek _not_ want him. Shaking away the thought, Derek concentrated again on the two boys.

"What if it's like an infection," the beta asked. "Like my body's just flooding with adrenaline before I go into shock or something."

Derek had to admit that was probably a pretty good description of the onset of the wolf's emergence in someone who'd been bitten. His mate's reply caught his attention.

"You know what? I actually think I've heard of this … it's a specific type of infection."

"Are you serious?" the beta asked.

Derek wondered that himself. His mate continued.

"Yeah, I think it's called lycanthropy."

Derek nearly swallowed his own tongue. His mate _knew_ about them?

"What's that? Is it bad?"

Derek sighed. If the beta didn't even have a basic knowledge of the legends or myths … this was going to be harder than he thought.

"Oh yeah, it's the worst," Derek's mate replied. "But only once a month."

This time, Derek heard the mocking undertone in his mate's voice. Of course … he was human and most humans didn't believe in werewolves or anything else that went bump in the night. He bit back a growl of frustration and let the blood call refocus his thoughts. This was his mate … and if he was friends with the beta he was going to find out the truth soon enough.

"Once a month?"

"Yep … on the night of the full moon." Derek's mate gave a soft teasing howl. The sound, low and mocking, still made the hair on Derek's neck stand up and he shivered. His mate chuckled and Derek listened to all the nuances - the laugh was good-natured and not unkind. He was trying to ease his friend's nerves. "Hey, you're the one who heard the wolf howling."

"Hey man, there could be something seriously wrong with me!"

"I know! You're a werewolf!" his mate gave a fake growl. Derek let himself wonder how that would sound for real. He shook his head. He knew he would have to break cover and confront the two, but he didn't want to end the suspense. He kept trying to build a face around the voice, scent and mannerisms. It was amusing but he knew reality probably wouldn't match.

"Ok, obviously I'm kidding," his mate offered in apology, but then, as if his mouth simply wouldn't stop, he rambled into, "but if you see me in shop class trying to melt all the silver I can find, it's 'cause Friday's a full moon."

Derek rolled his eyes. His mate was teasing about something that was so far from funny Derek couldn't even think of where to start. The steps paused and he knew it was time for him to emerge. Derek wished he could announce his intention to the kid, but because of his youth and ignorance, that would have to wait. Taking a deep breath, he stepped out from behind the tree that had been concealing him while he eavesdropped. He was glad for the air in his lungs because he suddenly forgot how to breath altogether.

_Of course that's him … why would Fate bring me anyone else?_ Derek thought.

His mate was apparently a scrawny sixteen old boy with dark hair cropped short enough to qualify as regulation military and a heart rate faster than a hunted rabbit even at rest. He wore a t-shirt with a bulls-eye on the front. Derek looked heavenward.

_Oh someone up there has a sense of humor. _

Derek stared at the pair who remained oblivious to his presence. He exhaled slowly and schooled his features into an unreadable mask. Outwardly, he was still. Internally, his thoughts were racing.

_My mate is human, still in high school and fairly ignorant of all things werewolf. God help me, I'm doomed. _Derek thought, unsure whether he should see this through or run now.

About that moment, his blissfully unaware mate noticed him and jumped. If it was even possible, his heart rate sped up and Derek was faintly concerned he would pass out. The boy smacked his friend on the arm and scratched nervously at his neck before jamming both hands into his jeans pockets and staring at the ground. Derek noted his scent filled with unease but not fear … yet. The beta kept his eyes locked on Derek in an almost-challenge. He glanced at his mate who was regarding him with hunched shoulders. Derek frowned. The obvious submissive posture made him angry for some reason. His mate shouldn't _cower. _

_Enough._

Derek knew his stride across the clearing was aggressive. It was calculated to put them on edge and give him control of the situation.

"What are you doing here?" Derek barked. No response. His mate scratched nervously over his scalp which irritated Derek. "This is private property."

The beta continued to stare at Derek. He was going to have his hands full with this one, he could tell. His mate's voice pulled his attention away.

"Uh, sorry man, we didn't know."

The beta stood only a step in front of Derek's mate but it was obvious who led in this relationship. Another flare of irritation ran through Derek. _His_ mate would answer to no one but the pack alpha. The beta didn't lower his gaze.

"We were … just looking for something and … " Derek looked at the beta expectantly wondering if he would actually say what they were seeking. The beta caved. "Uh, forget it."

Derek regarded them a moment before tossing the beta's inhaler to him. It had been easy to locate with the boy's scent all over it. He turned and walked off without another word. Today was not the day to approach his mate. He'd have to wait. Unfortunately, Derek had little experience with patience. He listened to the conversation behind him, always feeling a slight tug when his mate spoke.

"All right, come on, man, I gotta get to work," the beta said.

"Dude … that was _Derek Hale_."

Derek couldn't stop the slight thrill that rushed him. His mate _knew who he was_. Well, that was a good start anyway – what else did he know?

"You remember, right? He's like only a few years older than us."

"Remember what?" the beta asked making Derek growl softly to himself.

_Does the kid know nothing?_

"His family," Derek's mate emphasized. "They all burned to death in a fire, like ten years ago."

Derek blinked. It was a clinical description of quite possibly the most horrific day in his life.

"I wonder what he's doing back," the beta replied.

Derek practically heard his mate shrug.

* * *

Night had fallen and Derek sat on a ledge over looking the town of Beacon Hills. He'd spent the rest of the afternoon learning who his mate was – Stiles Stilinski. Derek shook his head. His mate was named Stiles Stilinski ... he'd definitely offended a deity somewhere along the way. Tracking the new beta, Scott McCall, to his house, Derek learned a few things about him. He was the priority right now, but when he'd finished his reconnaissance, Derek went in search of his mate.

It hadn't taken long to find the scent and track Stiles home. Derek's eyes drifted over the city lights until he found the one that belonged to his mate. Stiles lived in that house ... his _mate_ lived in that house. It was almost too much for Derek to wrap his head around. By some strange luck, he'd found something he believed would be forever denied him … his true mate.

The fact that his other half was below the age of consent for California and still in high school was just another fun little bump in the road of his life.

The age issue presented a complication. Two years wasn't an eternity – he made a mental note to learn the kid's birthday – but Derek had no idea how to progress. How did someone breach this particular topic in conversation?

_Hi, my name is Derek Hale and you're my destined mate. Want to go get a drink? _

Derek groaned as he realized that Stiles was also underage for drinking as well. He was so young and so human. Derek's frustration escaped in a soft snarl. And yet.

And yet … when he'd confronted the boys in the woods, Stiles' scent had marked him as uneasy and a little afraid certainly, but he'd stayed beside Scott. Derek had picked up on something else … a determination that pushed past the fear. Stiles would not have left Scott's side even if they'd been attacked. His mate was brave, loyal ... and incredibly _stupid _to think he could possibly defeat a werewolf. Of course, Stiles didn't know what Derek was ... it crossed his mind to wonder if the blood call affected Stiles the same way. Probably not - Derek was quickly coming to the realization that Stiles was going to be nothing if not contrary.

So ... courage and loyalty were good qualities for a mate. He filed that away for later.

Derek lay back on the ridge and pulled up his memory of Stiles, overlaying what his senses had told him before he even saw the kid. His eyes were his best feature. The warm amber gaze caught Derek's attention almost immediately ... before Derek had a chance to take in the rest of Stiles. The werewolf sighed. Stiles was still growing so there was no saying how he would look in a few years time. Derek had no choice but to wait. He had a feeling that was going to be difficult. The blood call would only grow stronger until acknowledged by both mates. Considering that Stiles had no idea werewolves really existed ... Derek had his work cut out for him. It was probably fortunate that Stiles was underage – it might prove to be easier to maintain control. Derek closed his eyes and thought of the way the late afternoon light turned Stiles' eyes honey gold.

_Wonderful ... I'm spouting romantic mush over a sixteen-year old boy with nice eyes. _Derek covered his face with both hands.

He wanted to see Stiles again ... soon. Preferably not looking as if he might bolt if Derek so much as said 'Boo!'. He sighed. His true mate was named Stiles Stilinski and Derek's wolf needed to be near him. Returning to Beacon Hills was simply getting more and more interesting as the days went by - and he still had to figure out who the alpha was before he killed again. He looked up at the moon and wondered if Stiles was watching too.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **I'm so glad folks are liking my AU! Thanks to everyone who has read or commented. Love ya!

* * *

Stiles Stilinski was fully convinced he was losing his mind. Or maybe whatever Scott had was contagious. Maybe it was a mini-stroke. Stiles dropped his head down on his desk at the last thought. God, he was dying? No, wait … strokes were debilitating. He was still in control of everything … which meant he _was _losing his mind. Stiles groaned and moved to his bed where he flopped face down.

Why had he decided to go with Scott to the woods again? Why? Well, because it was a dead body … _hello. _More accurately … _half _of a dead body. Who wouldn't want to see that? Only … there hadn't been any dead body. Just Derek Hale. The guy with a thundercloud etched on his face. The guy who'd appeared out of nowhere - seriously, where had he come from? One minute, nothing and no one – then poof! - frowny face man glaring at them. The whole man-in-black ensemble had looked surprisingly good on Derek. Stiles groaned. And why all of the sudden was he thinking about how good a guy looked in … well, in _anything_? He didn't have a problem with guys who liked guys … he just never put himself in that category. He thought some guys were cute, sure, but – another groan.

"I am _not_ gay!" Stiles protested into his pillow.

Maybe not, but he couldn't escape the fact that when he'd looked up and Derek Hale had been standing there, silent and still … _something _had happened. He just didn't know what. He wasn't sure he _wanted_ to know what. He wasn't sure of _anything_ anymore come to think of it. His best friend was undergoing some sort of overnight change into awesome and Stiles was still just Stiles. Invisible to Lydia Martin and pretty much ignored by everyone else except Scott. Only now Scott was developing some sort of strange superpowers so how long would he hang out with plain, ordinary, nutso Stiles?

Plain, ordinary Stiles, however, felt something when he looked at Derek Hale … what had it been? Fear? Yes, he'd been just a little uneasy about men who wandered in the woods and appeared out of freaking nowhere. There was more to it than just nerves … he'd felt … Stiles raised his head off his pillow with a frown. He'd felt _shy_ in front of Derek. Rolling onto his back, Stiles replayed the entire encounter in his head.

Derek had appeared and for a moment, Stiles saw a pair of green eyes. _Derek's_ dark green eyes. Green eyes that had _seen_ Stiles. He was a little shocked, but that was totally it … Derek Hale hadn't looked through him as though he wasn't there. He'd actually _noticed_ Stiles. Granted, he hadn't looked particularly _pleased_ with what he saw … but he'd seemed to actually recognize Stiles. Which was impossible - Stiles had never officially been introduced to Derek Hale.

"He knew who I was …" Stiles muttered. He knew it was true.

Stiles considered his feelings during that brief meeting of gazes … and then abruptly sat up. He could remember the moment with clarity because he _hadn't been thinking about anything else_.

Stiles' mind was a constant whirlwind … it always had been. For the duration of their conversation with Derek … more like their stuttered responses to his growling voice telling them to get the hell off his land … Stiles had been in the eye of the storm. His attention had been on Derek and nothing else. And even when Derek wasn't looking directly at him … Stiles _knew _Derek was aware of him at all times. It was disconcerting but … nice?

"Nice … why did I think it was nice? Why not odd or strange? Which it totally was – creepy stalker dude hanging out in the woods just staring … definitely not _nice_," Stiles said, chewing on his lower lip.

Even as he thought it, Stiles knew he didn't believe it. It hadn't been strange or wrong … and if he suddenly couldn't stop thinking about the dark-haired guy with the green eyes … well that didn't mean he was gay. Or did it? Was that bad? Did he really care one way or another who he was attracted to?

Stiles sighed. He'd been still for the most part until Derek turned his back on them to walk away. Stiles remembered the faint feeling of loss at his departure but he'd squashed that and started yammering away at Scott about Derek's family tragedy. Giving Scott the headline about the fire, Stiles had felt sad for Derek. He knew about loss. He still missed his mom and probably always would. Stiles pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes to stave off the sudden wetness.

"Oh god I'm losing it … Scott's going down the path to popular and me? I'm just going insane. Totally unfair trade-off." Stiles said with a wide yawn. He glanced at his nightstand clock but he couldn't focus on the numbers no matter how hard he blinked his eyes. And then he couldn't keep them open at all.

* * *

Derek sat on the floor just beneath Stiles open window, watching the young man sleep. A little stalkerish but this close to the full moon, Derek's wolf was insistent. Better to soothe it with Stiles' presence now while he was still in full control than risk it exposing his link to the boy before he was ready. Derek shook his head. He'd been sitting on the roof just above Stiles' window, listening. Stiles hadn't said much aloud, but his scent shifted as his brain tried to process Derek's presence and effect from the woods. It was dizzying.

Derek was pleased to find out his mate sensed the connection between them even if only on a subconscious level. They were already beginning to form a link that would solidify once they both acknowledged the bond. Derek's presence calmed Stiles' overactive brain. Derek's body was preparing for the full-moon shift, which had allowed him to use that effect to ease his mate into sleep. Stiles … oddly enough … had the same calming effect on Derek. He felt more comfortable with himself right now than he had in … years. Derek leaned his head back against the wall and inhaled.

Stiles' scent filled his lungs. Derek dissected every part of it. Stiles' youth came across as honey sweet. It would fade as he got older but Derek enjoyed it now. It meant that his mate was still innocent in some respects.

Derek's mouth quirked as Stiles' main scent revealed itself. He smelled of sun-warmed earth, rich and bold. The strength Derek had sensed earlier was prominent in that scent. If he ever turned, Stiles would be a powerful werewolf. Derek huffed a faint laugh as he tried to picture Stiles' as a werewolf. He stilled when Stiles mumbled something and rolled over. Derek got up and, after listening to make sure the sheriff wasn't going to burst in unexpectedly, took the comforter and pulled it over Stiles. He raised an eyebrow when Stiles curled into a ball and burrowed underneath.

_He cannot be that cute … what the hell is wrong with me? How can I find that adorable? I don't __do__ adorable! _Derek thought with a grimace. He reached out his hand but pulled back before he touched Stiles' hair. _This is going to be worse than hard._

Instead, Derek settled beside the bed and listened to Stiles murmuring in his sleep to someone named Lydia. Derek frowned and made a mental note to learn who _that_ was … then he sighed. He was already getting possessive? It had to be the full-moon … his wolf was ready to claim and mate. Derek took another deep breath. Stiles' scent helped him calm a little.

Derek frowned … he'd missed it earlier but there was another layer to Stiles' smell. It was acrid … like vinegar. Not completely unpleasant, but it was a jarring note to an otherwise smooth blend. Derek recognized it immediately – Stiles had known the death of a loved one. He guessed it was the mother he could just barely scent but had never seen. His previous research told him of her death when Stiles was still quite young. He stood and looked sadly down at his mate. This time he didn't stop himself and gently ran his fingers over Stiles hair. The boy frowned in his sleep and muttered, "Derek?"

Derek started and pulled his hand back as if burned. Stiles didn't waken … in fact he whimpered softly which made Derek's throat tighten.

_He can __sense__ me … even when he's asleep!_ Derek thought.

Slowly, the werewolf ran his fingers over the short strands of hair that covered his mate's scalp. He smiled at the strange texture and also at the contented sigh Stiles made. Derek felt the seductive call of the blood bond. He wanted nothing more in that instant than to wrap himself around his mate and nuzzle against him. He wanted to taste the tender skin over the windpipe. He wanted to explore every inch of his mate's body and learn the entire symphony of sounds that he could pull forth. He wanted –

Derek pulled his hand back and clenched it into a tight fist. He tried not to hear the lost sound Stiles made as he slipped out the window and into the night.

* * *

Stiles awoke from a strange dream to find himself wrapped in his comforter and the moonlight streaming in through his window. He'd dreamt of Derek Hale for some odd reason … probably because he'd been obsessing over their initial meeting. A howl echoed across the town and Stiles shivered.

_So much for no wolves in California, _Stiles thought.

The howl sounded … sad. Lonely. Stiles wondered why it also sounded familiar. He slept poorly the rest of the night and when he woke, he wondered why he could smell leather and … cinnamon?


	3. Chapter 3

Derek ran through the night, putting as much distance between himself and the Stilinski house as he could – trying to escape the growing need in himself to be near Stiles.

_He's too young … he doesn't know about us …he's too __human__ …_ Derek pleaded with his wolf.

It was useless. His wolf did not care at all about his protests. It only knew that its mate was not _here_. The wolf raged as Derek ran away. He could still smell Stiles ... the sweet, earthy scent that created havoc within him. Derek stumbled over a tree root and rolled into the dead leaves blanketing the ground beneath the trees. He tilted his head back and howled miserably at the pale moon above.

_I don't want this ... I don't want __him__ ... please ... _Derek didn't even know who he was begging – he only knew that he didn't have the strength to go through this again. He hated the _wanting _... he hated the _needing _... he didn't need anyone or anything. He sure as hell didn't want this puny, weak kid as his mate.

Even as he thought it, Derek knew he was simply trying to convince himself. His wolf wouldn't respond like this if the bond wasn't true ... Stiles was his mate. Period. Shifting back to human, Derek threw one arm over his eyes and lay on the ground breathing heavily as he fought instinct. It seemed to take an eternity before he was able to take in a normal breath. He slowly sat up and sighed, leaning forward with his arms on his knees.

_Obviously, no more late night visits,_ Derek thought. He might have better control outside the full moon but then again, he might not. It was too risky. Animal attraction was no myth … a normal human like Stiles would have a difficult time resisting Derek if he decided to push the issue. Stiles' body would respond instinctively and his brain would eventually follow. Nice when both parties were consenting … decidedly _wrong_ when not.

Closing his eyes, Derek cleared his mind. His body relaxed and he was able to refocus on the main task. Derek had to take care of the beta first. That _had_ to be priority before the boy revealed his true nature and hurt or killed someone. Later, maybe, he could work on telling Stiles the truth ... and he would simply have to hope the kid believed him. Derek fell back into the leaves with a groan.

* * *

The next day Stiles left practice in a worried daze. Any other day, he would have been thrilled beyond words for Scott's sudden prowess on the lacrosse field. Any other day besides today … after his friend had been bitten by … something. After a quick visit to the library, Stiles went up to his room and got to work. Websites zipped by as he devoured everything he could find on lycanthropy and werewolves in general. Most of it was urban legend-type info, but he found other sites. Sites which seemed to have a deeper understanding of what the creatures were and how a human became one. Importantly, there were a few sites that explained how to protect yourself against them.

Night fell but Stiles didn't notice. His mind, while sometimes a chaotic windstorm, was focused for once. His concern for Scott grew the more information he collected. He even found an article on werewolves and their mates. He printed it to read later. Then someone pounded on the door and his heart leapt into his throat. Closing his laptop, Stiles opened the door a crack and exhaled in relief when he found Scott standing there.

"Get in. You have to see this. I've been up all night, reading, websites, books, all those things..." Stiles moved to his desk, gesturing at the papers and books strewn everywhere.

Scott smiled at his friend. "How much Adderall have you had today?"

Stiles looked confused for a minute as his train of thought derailed slightly. "A lot … doesn't matter. Just listen …"

Scott sat down on Stiles bed. "Is this about the body? Did you find who it is?"

"No, they're still questioning people. Even Derek Hale …"

"Who? Oh, the guy on the woods." Scott muttered.

Stiles wanted to shake Scott. He knew where his friend's brain was … it was already on a date with Allison. He wondered if this is how other people felt when his attention fractured. He shook his head.

"Yeah, but that's not it, okay?!"

"What then?"

Looking at Scott worriedly, Stiles asked. "Remember the joke of the other day? It's not a joke anymore!" He groaned when Scott gave him a blank look. "The wolf, the bite in the woods!" Stiles turned to pick up one of the printouts and then rounded on Scott. "Do you even know why a wolf howls?"

"Should I?"

"It's a signal! Ok? When a wolf is alone and howls, he signals his location to the rest of the pack! So if you heard it, maybe you're not the only one, maybe there's a whole pack of them," Stiles explained breathlessly.

"A whole pack of wolves?

"No, werewolves... " Stiles said. It sounded lamer than he expected when it came out of his mouth.

* * *

Derek leaned back on the roof just over Stiles' room. He knew Scott was too distracted with thoughts of the girl to bother noticing another werewolf nearby. He'd have to break him of that.

Derek's wolf had made sleeping nearly impossible because it wanted to be near Stiles. He'd compromised and slept on the roof just above Stiles' room. Dozed, actually – the full moon had him on edge as always. By concentrating on Stiles' scent and movement in his room, Derek was able to calm the wolf. Now he listened to Stiles talking to Scott. He still found Stiles' voice terribly young-sounding but it was intriguing. There were layers to the young man's speech ... undertones that told Derek far more than the words he used. Right now, Derek could hear the concern for his friend beneath the babble of facts he'd discovered. Stiles cared about Scott. He cared about others in general. Derek added the fact to his list of Stiles' pros.

Derek frowned when Scott mentioned Adderall. He wasn't fond of it ... Stiles' scent changed slightly when it was in his system. It was as if part of Stiles was being restrained. It didn't matter. If Stiles' ever accepted the bite, he wouldn't need it any longer. It was a concern for another day.. Refocusing, he listened as Stiles finally revealed his true concern to Scott. It got the reaction Derek expected.

* * *

Scott stared at Stiles, his brain blank for a moment. "Are you seriously wasting my time with this? You know I'm picking up Allison in an hour!"

Stiles tried again to get through to his friend. "I saw you on the field the other day, Scott. What you did wasn't just amazing, alright? It was impossible!"

"Whatever," Scott said dismissively. "I just made a good shot."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "No! You made an _incredible_ shot! I mean, the way you move, the speed, the reflexes… People can't just do that over a night! And there's the vision and the senses and don't think I didn't notice you don't use your inhaler anymore..."

Derek tensed. The beta was becoming agitated. His aggression level was rising.

Scott threw his hands up in frustration. "Stiles! I can't think about this right now! We'll talk tomorrow."

"No! What? No! The full moon is tonight, Scott!" Stiles protested. "Don't you get it?"

Scott pulled away. "Stiles, what are you trying to do? I made first line, I have a date with a girl who I can't believe wants to go out with me, everything in my life is somehow perfect, why are you trying to ruin it?"

Stiles looked hurt. "I'm trying to help … you're cursed, Scott." Derek winced as Stiles' voice faltered out of worry for his friend. It also hurt to realize Stiles thought the bite was a curse. "The full moon won't only make physical changes, it's also when your blood lust will be at its peak."

"Blood lust?" Scott asked.

"Yeah, your urge to kill," Stiles elaborated.

"I'm already feeling the urge to kill someone, Stiles," Scott growled.

Derek bit back a growl of his own. The beta was dancing very close to threatening his mate. Derek debated leaving … he didn't know if he could control the wolf if Scott didn't back down.

Stiles blew out a frustrated breath. "Ok, ok … listen to this, then," he offered, picking up one of the books he'd been reading. "The change is triggered by anger or anything that raises your pulse." Stiles clapped the book shut. "I've never seen someone raise your pulse like Allison does! You've got to cancel this date. I'll call her right now."

Darting around his friend, Stiles hunted out his mobile phone and began scrolling through the contacts to find Allison's number. Above them, Derek's eyes were glowing blue and his fingers were hooked in preparation for his claws to emerge. Stiles was in danger and had no idea … Scott's heart was slamming in his chest and his breathing sounded like a freight train.

"Wait … what are you doing?!" Scott snapped.

Tapping the screen, Stiles answered, "I'm canceling the date … "

Stiles never saw Scott move. One minute he was looking down at the phone and the next, Scott had ahold of his shirt and was slamming him into the wall with his fist cocked back. Stiles opened his eyes that he'd clenched shut in preparation for the blow. Scott was staring at him, rage evident on his face. Releasing him, Scott looked like a man just waking up. He realized what he'd been about to do and Stiles saw the horror of that flit through his eyes. Scott overturned Stiles' desk chair instead.

"I'm sorry," Scott whispered.

Stiles said nothing. He wasn't shaking. He wasn't. If they'd been able to see above them, they would have seen shingles torn off the house by Derek in an effort to keep from killing Scott for attacking his mate. The older werewolf had picked up on the struggle within Scott – human against wolf. It was the only reason the beta still breathed. Derek focused and calmed down … somewhat. Stiles' fear was screaming at him so he couldn't leave just yet.

"Stiles … I'm sorry. I'm gonna get ready for that party," Scott murmured as he opened the door. He looked over at Stiles and winced at the fear-wide eyes. "I'm sorry."

Stiles sagged against the wall and looked miserably at the floor. He had no idea what to do now. He decided he could start by picking up the chair. As he settled it upright, he noticed the back was sliced open. With claw marks.

"Scott, man … what _are _you?" Stiles groaned.

Movement caught his attention and he looked quickly toward the window. His brain told him that something had just moved past so Stiles went over to look. He took a step back as the very distinct scent of leather and cinnamon hit him. Stiles didn't tremble again. He didn't.


	4. Chapter 4

Derek growled softly as he watched Scott and Allison at the party. He could scent the change threatening just below the beta's skin. The moon would be full tomorrow night. Derek would have to keep a close watch on Scott at the same time that his wolf would be howling within him to claim his mate, Stiles.

Stiles. Derek could scent his mate somewhere inside the house. He could smell the boy reacting to the multitude of females attending the event and it was irritating. He'd determined who Lydia was ... a vain, vapid little girl who was instinctively trying to determine the alpha of their little group. Once she did, she would align herself with him. And she would mostly like shift loyalties again when that one fell out of favor. Derek shook his head ... somehow _that_ had captured Stiles' affection.

Again, Derek wondered why his life had to be so fucking impossible. Millions of possibilities and he was trapped between protecting the secrecy of the werewolf community and courting his true mate. His true mate who currently fancied himself in love with a girl who barely noticed that Stiles breathed. It was disheartening ... mostly because Derek had no idea how to turn that awareness to himself. Human interactions were so limiting even without taking the age thing into consideration.

Scott suddenly spotted Derek who simply stared at him. Allison pulled his attention away and Derek left to circle the property. The beta was going to begin suffering the start of the change – instinct would drive him to flee the party and go to a place he considered safe. Moments later, as predicted, Scott stumbled through the party-goers and managed to make it to his mom's car. Derek watched from the shadows as Allison tried to pursue but failed in catching Scott before he drove away.

Derek regarded Allison. He knew her family. He knew them far too well. Unfortunately, right now, she was safest with them and Derek had to remove any temptation from Scott's awareness. Steeling himself, he approached the girl who was staring confusedly at the dwindling taillights of her boyfriend's car.

"Allison," Derek said. She turned. "I'm a friend of Scott's."

Allison looked back at the dark street. Her scent was confused and distressed. Derek caught the scent of gardenias, bright and bold under the girl's natural smell. She was innocent ... she'd never known death or darkness. Derek envied her that. Considering the family she belonged to, he wondered how long it could last. He put his best charming expression on and stepped a little closer. The moon's cycle was enhancing everything about him – his strength, his speed and his attraction. Allison unconsciously responded to him, her scent losing the uneasy edge. He smiled.

"My name's Derek ... Scott said he wasn't feeling too good. He asked me to give you a ride home ... that ok with you?" Derek asked, pitching his voice low and soft.

Allison agreed and he escorted her to his car. He cast a look over his shoulder. Stiles stood on the front steps of the house, watching. When Derek's eyes met his, the boy blushed and looked quickly away. Derek smiled to himself.

_Soon, Stiles ... soon._

* * *

Derek Hale paced the woods impatiently. At any other time, he would have shifted and run the grounds until the moon's pull faded. He would have given in to his wolf and enjoyed the sensations the world held when he was in that other form. Tonight, however, there was far too much at stake. Tonight, he knew the beta would seek him out when Stiles told him about Allison's escort from the party. The possessive wolf wouldn't allow him to do anything else. If he could keep the boy occupied, perhaps he could prevent a tragedy.

If. New werewolves were very strong. Derek would have to be on guard. His attention was suddenly pulled to the right. He inhaled.

_There you are ... come on ... find me if you can._

Derek moved through the darkness and sighed listening to Scott crashing through the woods like a stampeding buffalo. A pause in movement. Derek knew that Scott had discovered the jacket. He moved closer to the beta who hadn't yet learned to focus his abilities and therefore wasn't sure where Derek was located.

"Where is she?" Scott growled.

"She's safe ...from you," Derek replied as he pounced.

Rolling with Scott on the leaf-strewn ground, Derek eventually managed to pin the boy and then haul him upright. He heard another sound that the beta missed in the tussle with Derek. He pinned Scott to a tree-trunk and cocked his head.

"What did you do with her?!" Scott demanded.

Derek frowned and struggled to identify what he'd heard. "Shh ... listen!"

Scott looked at him confused. Derek growled. "Too late – they're already here. Run!" Derek darted off but when he turned back, Scott was still crouching by the tree.

_Move, you idiot!_

Scott did bolt, but not in time. An arrow struck a tree just in front of him and sent out a shower of sparks and blinding light. Scott staggered, unable to focus his eyes. Then he screamed as another arrow pinned him to a tree. Derek growled. He should have left the beta to learn his lesson, but he couldn't. Scott was still a child, whether he wanted to believe it or not. He had to be taught and protected just like a newborn. And he was Stiles' best friend – Derek did not want to do anything, even by omission, that might hurt Stiles. He circled around until he was behind the hunters. Then he attacked.

It was the work of a minute to disable two of the three hunters. The last one ... the leader ... was too slow to catch Derek running through the dark mist to Scott's side. By the time he heard the arrow snap and the two werewolves running away, it was too late to do anything. He reviewed what he'd seen in his head. He would have time to hunt later. He just had to be patient.

* * *

Derek and Scott finally slowed. Scott shifted back to human, hugging his arm against him.

"Who were they?" Scott pleaded.

"Hunters ... the kind that have been hunting us for centuries," Derek explained, his eyes roving over the night.

"_US?_" Scott snarled. "You mean _you_! You did this to me!"

Derek looked over at the boy in angry disbelief. "Is it really so bad, Scott? That you can see better, hear more clearly, move faster than any human could ever hope?" Derek growled in frustration. "You've been given something that most people would kill for – the bite is a gift."

"I don't _want it_!" Scott protested.

Derek chuckled. "You will. And you're gonna need me if you want to learn how to control it," Derek said. He leaned in and put one hand on Scott's shoulder. "So, you and me Scott? We're brothers now." Derek stood and pulled out his phone. "It's almost dawn. I'll call Stiles and he can pick you up. I'd start walking."

Trudging down the road as Stiles' Jeep pulled up beside him in the early morning light, Scott suddenly wondered how Derek had Stiles' phone number.

* * *

Slumped over in the passenger seat, Scott bemoaned his possibly ruined relationship with Allison. Stiles rolled his eyes.

"I doubt she hates you," Stiles said. "But you might want to come up with a pretty amazing apology." Stiles paused. "Or, you know, you could just tell her the truth and revel in the fact that you're a frickin' _werewolf_."

Scott gave Stiles a pained look. Stiles sighed. He knew this had to be difficult for Scott. He had to be the good friend now.

"Hey, we'll get through this," Stiles offered. "I can chain you up on full moon nights and feed you live mice – I had that boa. I could do it."

Scott laughed and Stiles laughed with him. He laughed to hide the fact that while he did not understand what was happening with Scott, he understood even less what was happening to him.

Stiles had received a call earlier that morning from an unknown caller. He'd let it go to voice mail and then listened. Stiles gripped his steering wheel a little harder as he remembered the message.

"Stiles ... this is Derek Hale. You need to pick Scott up on the east side of the preserve. You know what he is ... you have to watch over him." A long pause followed during which time Stiles felt an unaccountable disappointment that Derek had stopped talking. "And be careful, Stiles ... I don't want to hurt him but I will ... if he hurts you."

Stiles had replayed the message three times. Derek's voice had, embarrassingly enough, gone straight to the part of him that could care less about werewolves roaming the woods. During the third replay his body had done a good deal more than just 'perk up'. He'd been forced to take a shower and change the sheets on his bed. Humiliating.

Sitting beside Scott now, he could smell what he knew was Derek's scent on his friend. His confusion was overwhelming – he was thinking _way _too much about Derek Hale in a way he totally should _not _be. A way like wanting that leather and cinnamon smell all over himself ... which would require him to be far closer to Derek Hale than he _ever _wanted to be.

Why had Derek promised to hurt Scott if he attacked Stiles? Why did the thought of Derek protecting him make his stomach flutter the way he thought only Lydia could manage? Why oh why had he suggested they go walking through the woods looking for a dead body?

Stiles had a feeling he was going to regret that decision for a very long time.


	5. Chapter 5

Derek shook his head, watching Scott on the lacrosse field. The boy simply refused to admit that he had limitations right now. No new werewolf could completely control the instinctual drives that emerged during a full moon. It had taken Derek years and he'd been _born _a werewolf. When Scott finally injured the team captain in what was an obvious battle for dominance, the wolf forced its way to the surface of Scott's consciousness. He fell to his knees in pain as he fought against the side of him he refused to acknowledge. Derek noticed that Stiles was instantly at his friend's side, soothing and eventually pulling Scott off the field toward the locker room. Derek's eyes glimmered blue. The beta was losing control ... the aggression within him was threatening his reason. He followed the pair.

Stiles pushed Scott into the locker room, frantic in his hope of finding a way to calm his friend down before something bad happened. Unfortunately, before Stiles could settle on any concrete action ... the something bad happened.

"Get away from me!" Scott roared, his eyes glowing yellow.

Stiles' eyes widened in response as he watched his friend Scott disappear behind the mask of a predator. He was suddenly he was scrambling backwards, trying to find a place to hide, but in the locker room there was nowhere to go that Scott didn't know about or couldn't reach.

Stiles' terror was like a perfume to the wolf – its prey was weak. It ran around, uselessly trying to hide, trying to make itself invisible. The wolf was not fooled or deterred. If Stiles darted out of sight, the wolf still followed. He could hear the heartbeat as clearly as if it were its own. The ragged breaths were becoming labored – soon the prey would be exhausted and easily taken down.

Stiles made a desperate lunge for the door. He grabbed the only thing at hand – the fire extinguisher. It might only delay things, but his survival instinct was too strong. When Scott launched himself down at Stiles, he was enveloped in a fog. Disoriented and shocked into retreat, the wolf staggered backwards. Stiles took the opportunity to race into the hallway. He brandished the fire extinguisher and prayed he could get Scott to change back before someone saw them - looking up, Stiles jumped. Derek Hale stood at the end of the hall. His fingers were curled into claws and Stiles could have sworn his eyes were _glowing. _Stiles somehow knew ... if Scott emerged from the locker room still a wolf – Derek would kill him.

"No! No, wait! I can -" Stiles stepped in front of the locker room doorway, hands held up. He couldn't let his friend die for something that wasn't his fault.

* * *

Derek tensed when Stiles stepped into the open. What the hell was his mate _doing_? Didn't he understand how dangerous Scott was? Why was he protecting him? Then a plaintive voice came from the locker room.

"Stiles ...?"

Stiles turned at Scott's voice. He exhaled sharply when he saw that Scott was once again in control. Stiles turned to tell Derek but the man was gone. Stiles blinked and then turned his attention back to Scott.

Pulling his gloves off, Stiles regarded his friend with no little concern. "You tried to kill me, Scott. It's like I told you before – it's the anger, it's your pulse rising. It's a trigger."

Scott looked at him miserably. "But that's lacrosse! In case you didn't notice, it's a pretty violent sport!"

Stiles shook his head. "Scott, it's gonna be a lot more violent if you end up killing someone on the field! You can't play Saturday, you're gonna have to get out of the game."

"Stiles I'm first line!"

"Not any more you're not," Stiles replied sadly.

* * *

That night, Scott groaned as he talked to Stiles online about the damage he'd wreaked on the field. Jackson had a separated shoulder and it was still up in the air as to whether or not he would play Saturday. Scott began to wonder if he was the menace everyone seemed to think he was – then he frowned. Stiles was peering at the laptop screen. A look of fear crossed his face.

"Stiles, what ..."

A text message popped up a moment later. [It looks like someone's behind you.]

Scott turned just in time to see Derek Hale drag him up and out of his chair. Fisting his shirt, Derek pinned Scott to the wall face first. Derek's hot breath whispered against his ear. It was not a pleasant sensation.

"I saw you on the field," Derek growled. "You shifted in front of them!"

"What are you talking about?"

"If they find out what you are, they find out about me ... about all of us!" Derek snapped. "And then it's not just the hunters after us ... it's everyone."

"They didn't see anything ... I swear!"

"And they won't!" Derek warned. "Because if you even try to play in that game on Saturday? I'll kill you myself." Scott whimpered as Derek pressed him even harder against the wall. "And if you _ever_ go after Stiles again ... I'll rip your heart out."

With that, Derek was gone and Scott was left wondering just how his life became so insane.

* * *

After school the next day, Scott went to the burned out husk of the Hale house. Allison's jacket had mysteriously turned up in her locker. Scott had immediately picked up Derek's scent all over it. He was furious.

As he stood in front of the house, Scott smelled something ... blood? He looked around and saw a mound of freshly turned dirt. When he turned back, Derek Hale was standing on the porch watching him impassively. Scott's blood ran hot. "Stay away from her! She doesn't know anything!"

"Yeah? What if she does?" Derek asked as he casually walked over to Scott. "You think your little buddy Stiles can just Google werewolves and now you got all the answers, is that it?"

Scott stared at him. Derek sighed.

"You don't realize it yet, Scott but I'm looking out for you," Derek explained. "Think about what could happen ...you're out on the field ... the aggression takes over ... and you shift in front of everyone." Derek picked up Scott's lacrosse stick. "You shift in front of your mom ... all your friends ... and when they see you?" Derek crooked his fingers and dragged his claws through the webbing, slicing it like rice paper. He threw the stick to Scott who stared at the shredded net. "Everything falls apart."

When Scott looked up, Derek was gone.

* * *

Stiles raced up the stairs to Scott's room. His brain was firing in several directions at once and he began talking the minute he entered the room. "What did you find? How did you find it? And where did you find it?"

Scott chuckled. "Lot of Adderall?"

"Yes," Stiles said, blinking rapidly. "So ..."

"I found something at Derek Hale's house ... I could smell blood."

"That's awesome! I mean, that's terrible ... uh, who's blood?"

"I don't know," Scott said softly. "But when we figure it out, your dad nails Derek for the murder. And then you help me figure out how to play lacrosse without changing, because there is no way I'm missing that game." Scott tossed his repaired lacrosse stick to Stiles and walked out of his room.

Stiles followed Scott at a much more sedate pace than he'd entered. The idea of Derek being the killer had once sounded so plausible but now ... now Stiles wasn't sure. Worse, he suddenly found himself _not _wanting to cause Derek any complications. He didn't want to examine the fact that he'd sniffed Scott's lacrosse stick just to catch a whiff of Derek's scent. What the hell was going on?

* * *

Stiles waited at the hospital for Scott to examine the half of the body that had already been found. As he came around the corner, he spotted Lydia Martin. His heart skipped a beat or two and he found himself suddenly incapable of coherent speech - something not entirely unusual when he was around Lydia.

Stiles swallowed hard and went to talk to her, but something made his throat seize up. As he looked at Lydia with wide eyes, he suddenly could only think about Derek Hale. Not Derek Hale the suspected killer ... Derek Hale, the guy that was starting to permeate Stiles' every waking thought. He stammered out an excuse when Lydia noticed him and asked what he wanted. He stumbled over to a chair and flopped down in it with a groan. Lydia Martin ... the love of his life since the third grade ... had spoken to him and all he could picture was Derek Hale. He was losing his mind. His friend was a werewolf and Stiles was finding himself unable to stop thinking about the _other _werewolf that possibly had cursed Scott and killed the girl in the woods. Could things possibly be more crazy?

* * *

Digging a hole on the Hale property, Stiles decided that yes – yes, his life _could _be crazier.

Stiles could not shake the feeling that he was doing something unaccountably _wrong _as he and Scott turned shovel after shovel of dirt over. Waiting for Derek to leave, Stiles tried to convince himself that the evidence pointed straight at Derek as the killer. Derek Hale. The Killer. The man who'd killed someone and buried her on his property. He tried not to picture Derek Hale the man whose voice had ignited a very powerful _want _in Stiles. A want for something he couldn't even begin to understand.

Now, as they dug, Stiles just focused on the monotony of putting the shovel in the dirt and throwing it to one side. In, down over ... in, down, over ... he jumped when Scott's voice broke through.

"Stiles, this is taking way too long," Scott warned.

"Just keep going," Stiles replied. He wasn't about to back down now.

"What if he comes back?"

Stiles shrugged. "Then we get the hell out of here."

"What if he catches us?" Scott asked.

Stiles wondered if Scott had always been this paranoid. "I have a plan for that – you run one way, I run the other. Whoever he catches first, too bad."

Scott stared at his friend. "I hate that plan."

After another few shovelfuls, Scott decided to ask Stiles something.

"Stiles ...do you _know_ Derek?"

"Huh? What are you talking about?" Stiles asked, confused.

"Derek told me that if I ever attacked you again ... he'd rip out my heart," Scott replied.

Stiles raised an eyebrow. "He did?"

"Yeah, he was pretty clear about it," Scott said, rubbing the back of his neck at the remembered pain. "And he knew your mobile number to call you to pick me up."

Stiles shrugged. "No clue ... if you hadn't noticed, he's a very strange dude ... who killed someone and _buried_ them."

Scott nodded. "Yeah, I guess so. He just seemed so ... I dunno ... _protective_ about you."

Stiles snorted and they went back to digging. Scott's words were making him think about his dreams of late but the images came unbidden.

* * *

**_He was standing in the preserve. The moon glowed overhead. Looking around at a sound, he found himself staring at the largest wolf he'd ever seen. Its eyes were luminescent blue. He should have been shaking in fear. He should have wanted to run. Instead, he stood and let the wolf walk slowly up to him. It gently nosed his hand and he ran his fingers into the thick fur. The beast gave a pleased-sounding _****whuf! ****_and bumped him. He laughed and pushed back. The blue eyes looked at him and he suddenly knew that when human, those eyes were green. He wasn't afraid. Not even when the wolf jumped up and knocked him to the ground. He lay on his back looking up at the wolf that stared down at him for a minute before licking a stripe up the side of his face. The smell of leather and cinnamon filled his nose._**

**"****_Mate …" He heard the wolf say – even though its mouth remained closed. He couldn't explain why his heart thrilled at the word._**

* * *

"Stiles!"

Scott's voice snapped him back to reality. "Yeah! What … wait …"

Scott grabbed his arm and motioned downward. A wrapped bundle tied in rope lay beneath their feet. Stiles' uneasiness returned. Why had Derek buried the body on his own property, practically by the front door? It didn't make any sense. Scott, however, had no qualms about it and was frantically hovering over Stiles who was working the several knots in the ropes.

"C'mon, Stiles! Hurry!"

Stiles glared up at Scott. "I'm _trying_. Did he have to tie the thing in, like, 900 knots?"

Scott began working the rope and between the two of them, they were able to finally untie everything and pull back the tarp. Both boys reared back in shock and leapt out of the hole.

"What the hell is that?!"

Scott blinked in surprise. "It's a wolf."

Stiles rolled his eyes and looked exasperated. "Yeah, I can see that. I thought you said you smelled blood, as in human blood."

Scott shrugged. "I told you something was different."

"This doesn't make sense," Stiles muttered.

"Stiles, we gotta get out of here," Scott urged nervously.

"Yeah. Okay, help me cover this up," Stiles said, going back to wrap the body. Something caught his attention and he froze.

"What's wrong?"

"You see that flower?"

"What about it?"

"I think it's wolfsbane," Stiles said, getting up to check.

"What's wolfsbane?" Scott asked.

Stiles stared at him. "What's – haven't you seen the Wolf Man?"

"No."

"Lon Chaney Jr.? Claude Rains? The original, classic werewolf movie?" Stiles pressed.

"No! What?" Scott demanded. He reigned his temper back because he didn't want to arouse any reaction in Derek no matter how far away he was.

Stiles shook his head. "You are so unprepared for this."

Walking over to the flower, Stiles pulled it up only to find that a rope was tied to it. A rope that led in a strange spiral around the grave. Slowly, Stiles pulled up the entire length. He was trying to figure out what it meant when Scott uttered his name in a stunned and horrified voice.

"What?" Stiles asked. Then he glanced down at the body and jumped back.

The mutilated body of a girl stared up at him. Stiles couldn't account for the feeling of despair that filled him.

* * *

Stiles was getting tired of revelations in the cold gray of morning. After calling his father, the police department had descended on the old Hale house. Officers led Derek out in handcuffs. Stiles felt his chest constrict while he watched. Scott lowered his eyes and stared at the ground. He felt wrong about this for some reason.

Derek wanted to howl. Again. He'd been taken in _again_. Only this time he wasn't sure he was going to be able to endure the betrayal. This time he'd been betrayed by his _mate_ and the new beta. Meeting Scott's eyes, Derek regarded the teen with something akin to disapproval. Stiles was no where to be seen, but Derek could scent him nearby. Derek hoped he never saw the little bastard again. His wolf whined at that and Derek knew his anger was driving his thoughts.

Of course, Derek should have realized his life was never going to take the easy path.

* * *

Stiles walked out of the woods after the officers surrounding the car holding Derek dispersed. No one was watching. Much to Scott's horror, Stiles strolled across the property and slid into the car unseen.

Derek's eyes widened. He'd never faced Stiles this close before ... he didn't count the first night when Stiles had slept. The earthy scent assaulted him and he tried desperately to ignore his wolf which was clawing at his brain to acknowledge, to claim, to take. He simply pursed his lips in a tight line.

Derek's scent slammed into Stiles like a hammer blow when he got into the car. He grit his teeth and said, "Ok, just so you know ... I'm not afraid of you."

Derek said nothing, he just glared at Stiles.

"Ok, maybe I am. Doesn't matter. I just want to know something," Stiles asked. He was trying very hard not to get lost in the green eyes focused on him right now. "She was a werewolf ... but a different kind, wasn't she? I mean, she could turn herself into an actual wolf and I know Scott can't do that. Is that why you killed her?"

"Why are you so worried about me, Stiles? It's your little friend who's the problem." Derek held Stiles' gaze. "When he shifts on the field, what do you think they're gonna do, huh? Keep cheering him on?"

Stiles blinked. Derek's voice was making it very hard for him to concentrate.

"I can't stop him from playing, but you can," Derek leaned forward and Stiles unconsciously did the same. "And trust me, you want to."

Stiles exhaled slowly. He couldn't stop looking at Derek's lips and when the werewolf licked them Stiles actually moaned. He jerked back.

"What the hell are you doing to me? What is this? Why am I dreaming about you? Why can I smell you wherever I am? What's happening to me?"

Derek closed his eyes and fought down the impulse to break free of the handcuffs and tear through the divider to get to Stiles. "Go stop your friend, Stiles," Derek growled.

"Not until you tell me who you are ... "

"Why would I do anything for you, Stiles? You just accused me of murder," Derek said softly.

Stiles had the good grace to blush. Any other time Derek would have found it endearing. Now he just wanted to shake the boy. "Derek ... I - "

"Go away, Stiles. Just leave me alone."

Derek winced when Stiles inhaled sharply at his words and pulled back, his face a mask of hurt. The sad thing was that Stiles had absolutely no idea _why_ it hurt to have Derek reject him. Even as Stiles' father, the sheriff, was dragging his son out of the cop car, Stiles said in a pained whisper.

"I don't understand ... who am I to you?"

Derek leaned his forehead against the divider as the boy was pulled away. His earlier fury was gone and in its place was a dull resignation.

"You're everything to me, Stiles ... fucking _everything_," Derek groaned. He was _so _doomed.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thanks for the continued encouragement!**

* * *

Derek Hale sat on a bunk leaning back against the wall of a jail cell. His eyes were closed and he morosely replayed his conversation with Stiles in the sheriff's vehicle like a stuck record. The look on Stiles' face when he flinched away from Derek was one he did not want to see again. It hurt. It hurt worse than he thought it could.

Standing, Derek paced the cell restlessly. Despite Stiles' nervousness, Derek had picked up a definite spike of arousal from the teen. Derek's wolf had gone into a near frenzy – telling Stiles to go away after that had been sheer torture for him.

Derek hated the situation – he had to avoid and rebuff the one person in Beacon Hills he wanted to protect and comfort. He wished, not for the first time, that his family were still alive. Derek needed someone to talk to … someone to help him not fuck this up.

Stiles was being affected by the blood call. Except Stiles had no idea what the blood call _was_ – Derek could only imagine the extreme confusion Stiles was feeling trying to reconcile his emotions with their non-existent relationship. Derek thumped his head against the wall in frustration.

Not claiming the human as his mate was driving Derek's wolf insane – it wanted to complete the bond. Stiles was as far from what Derek looked for in a companion as he could get – but he couldn't ignore the fact that the babble and that incredible heartbeat calmed Derek like nothing else. Stiles' frenetic movements … well, his mate's twitchy tendencies just amused him. Derek idly wondered what it might take to relax Stiles enough that he wouldn't be in constant motion and his mouth quirked at the thought. The smile faded as he came back to the original problem – Stiles intrigued him deeply but there were so many obstacles between them, Derek was at a loss. How could he court someone who was afraid of him? He didn't _mean_ to make Stiles uncomfortable - it just seemed to happen.

Derek sighed as he listed the various roadblocks between him and his mate. Being arrested for murder obviously topped the list – he couldn't do much stuck in this cell. Stiles' father was the sheriff – well trained in firearm usage. Stiles was a teenager and human. A new beta existed and was about to cause all manner of havoc if he shifted at the wrong time. Finally, Derek still had to locate the unknown alpha that had murdered his sister, which brought him back to Beacon Hills in the first place.

Derek wondered if it wouldn't just be easier to eat wolfsbane.

* * *

Clearing off his desk of papers and books, Stiles noticed an article he'd printed but never read. "Werewolves and their Mates". Thinking it might come in handy considering Scott's growing relationship with Allison; Stiles flopped in his chair to read it before he got ready for the game.

**"The werewolf will choose its Mate one of two ways … by heart or by blood. Mating may occur between a pure human and a werewolf which is, in itself, dangerous if the human is unaware of the existence of the were community.**

**By heart is closest to most human relationships – two individuals are attracted to one another and grow into a long and lasting partnership. It is the most common and easiest to dissolve without any serious repercussions to either individual beyond those of emotional distress.**

**By blood is more complicated – in this instance, the werewolf is drawn to a particular individual by instinct. It is known as the 'blood call'. The attraction will manifest by a distinct and irresistible scent coming to the wolf's attention, identifying the compatible mate. It is not possible for a werewolf to deny a blood call. Between werewolves, the call will cause one wolf to initiate a claim on the other to establish dominance. Blood calls are generally between werewolves of different ranks but occasionally similar ranks can be drawn to one another with an exception – a mating between alphas has not been recorded. If the werewolves are of different packs, then one pack will accept the new mate or both werewolves may be expelled. Disputes regarding pack membership can arise depending on the importance of the werewolves involved in the mating.**

**If the blood call is between a pure human and a werewolf, complications may arise. Humans, while weaker than werewolves in many respects, are still capable of 'sensing" the call. In sensitive humans, this may appear as dreams, heightened awareness of a particular scent or intense sexual desire. With humans, the process must be dealt with carefully as many variables exist. If the human is not aware of the existence of the were-community, they must be brought into confidence or given the bite. If neither of these options is possible, the human will be killed. This inevitably results in the death of the were-mate as well, illuminating the most difficult aspect of a blood call.**

**Unlike a heart bond, the blood call cannot be broken once consummated. It is a joining of more than the physical. Mates will be able to sense one another and their energies, life-force, souls, whathaveyou are linked. Between weres, this can sometimes result in a near telepathic bond. With humans, the link rarely goes that far unless the human partner is particularly sensitive. **

**In both werewolves and humans, if both do not acknowledge the link affected parties, one or both will begin to exhibit signs of withdrawal. If the bond is allowed to go unacknowledged too long, both parties will succumb and perish."**

Stiles swallowed hard and the article fell from suddenly numb fingers. Mate. The word flew around Stiles' brain flashing in neon. Derek Hale was his _mate_?

"Nonononono … not happening, not happening …" Stiles jumped up from his chair and began pacing the room, running his hands through his short hair. "Oh god … nonono … but all the dreams … and that phone call … and he smells so fucking _good_ … oh man, I am _so_ screwed. And of course it would be the guy in jail for – "

Stiles froze. He and Scott had provided evidence against Derek. Derek was now in jail accused of murder. Which meant he'd put_ his mate in jail_.A low groan escaped Stiles as he remembered the look on Derek's face while sitting handcuffed in the squad car. He fell back on his bed.

"He's going to kill me. I'm going to die. He's going to kill me."

Stiles continued his mantra of his assured death all the way to the lacrosse field.

* * *

The game ended without bloodshed, but Stiles didn't know if he should be relieved or terrified. He sat on the bleachers in shock that Scott had actually managed to not only avoid wolfing out … he'd won the game nearly single-handedly. Unfortunately, Stiles' joy for Scott was tempered by his realization from the afternoon. Or what he thought he'd realized. For all he knew, he would mention this to Derek and the werewolf might laugh in his face. If he didn't tear it off first. Which brought back the thought that he'd put his potential mate in jail. Stiles ran a hand down his face.

"I'm dead. He's going to kill me."

Stiles turned at a voice and saw his father talking on the phone. "Dad? What's wrong?"

Sheriff Stilinski held up a finger and continued to listen. Stiles did not like his expression – it was one of fear.

* * *

Walking into the locker room, Stiles passed Allison leaving. He wanted to talk to his friend about Derek but the look on Scott's face made him swallow his words. It was the dazed look of someone completely and utterly smitten. Stiles sighed. Wasn't love grand?

_Like I'd know … the girl I love doesn't realize I'm alive and now I might be the Wolf man's significant other, Stiles thought. Bet they don't have a Hallmark card for that._

When Scott looked at him, however, Stiles made sure a smile was on his face. It was somewhat adorable the way Scott's eyes were glazed over and he was trying to not smile and failing miserably.

**"**I kissed her..." Scott said dreamily.

**"**I saw." Stiles replied with a grin.

**"**She kissed me," Scott continued.

**"**I saw that too. It's pretty good, huh?" Stiles said encouragingly.

Scott nodded absently then looked at Stiles.** "**I... I... I don't know how but... I controlled it, I pulled it back. Maybe I can do this; maybe it's not that bad!"

Stiles clamped his mouth shut against the news he had to share. His buddy was reveling in a night to remember – for all the right reasons. He'd won the game. He'd kissed the girl. Not the time for doom and gloom announcements from his friend. Especially after the emotional outburst about a 'normal life' he'd directed at Stiles before the game. Nope. Stiles Stilinski was gonna let Scott have this one. He thumped Scott on his padded shoulder.

"Yeah! We'll talk later then!"

Stiles turned to leave but Scott caught his arm. Stiles sighed. So much for that idea.

"What?" Scott asked.

With another sigh, Stiles shared what his father had told him.** "**The, er... medical examiner looked at the half of the body we found..."

"And?"

**"**Well, let's keep it simple... The medical examiner determined that the killer was animal, not human, Derek human, not animal, Derek not the killer... Derek let out of jail." Stiles explained.

_And Derek going to kill me, mate or no mate,_ Stiles added silently.

"Are you kidding?" Scott exclaimed.

The next piece of information came slower because Stiles still couldn't believe it. And it made him nauseous to think that he'd had a part in uncovering it.

**"**Not kidding, wish I was. But Scott, there's bigger... my dad identified the dead girl... both halves... her name was Laura Hale."

**"H**ale?" Scott asked incredulously. "As in -?"

Stiles nodded. "Derek's sister..."

* * *

After dropping Scott off at his house, Stiles went home and up to his room. He had to think. He had to figure out what he was going to do. Turning on the light, Stiles bit back a scream when he saw Derek Hale sitting on the floor under his window.

"Stiles, we need to talk."


	7. Chapter 7

"We need to talk."

Four simple words but when combined they created the most terrifying sentence in the world. Stiles nodded mutely. He dropped his lacrosse gear on the floor with a thump and sat down warily on the edge of his bed. Derek held up the article on mating. Stiles' eyes darted to his desk and back to Derek again.

_Were his eyes always that green? _Stiles wondered.

"You get all of your information from Google?" Derek asked.

Stiles dropped his eyes and shrugged. He suddenly couldn't think of what to do with his hands. Stiles crossed his arms, then leaned back on them. He curled one leg beneath himself and then put both feet on the floor.

"Stiles. Relax."

Stiles blinked. He looked at Derek wide-eyed as the tension seemed to slide out of his body.

"Whoa … that was ... weird. How – wait, are you using some sort of freaky mind control werewolf thing?"

Derek rolled his eyes. "It's the bond forming between us ... I can project emotions to you." "Neat trick," Stiles' said with a sigh as his shoulders relaxed. "Way better than Adderall."

Derek looked at Stiles and shook his head in disbelief. "I still can't believe you're my mate."

Stiles bristled with a hurt look. "What the hell does that mean?"

Derek's eyes widened and he shook his head. "No … I didn't mean – fuck. I'm screwing this up …" Derek frowned at the carpet.

Stiles got up and sat down in front of Derek, legs crossed. "Start over and pretend you're explaining it to a high school kid who's barely made it to second base."

Derek looked at him. "You're kidding."

"Really? You're gonna sit there and judge me on my lack of sexual encounters?" Stiles replied.

Derek sighed again and ran a hand over his face. "I just meant ... you aren't exactly what I expected in my true mate."

"Um, yeah ... and you – well, not to put too fine a point on it, but you are a lot more ... _male_ than I expected in my – actually, you know I never really thought about my true mate because humans don't have those!" Stiles said exasperated. He let his head fall forward into his hands. "Oh my god, what is going on? I'm not a werewolf!"

"I know, Stiles. It doesn't matter ... or didn't you read the article?" Derek held up the paper mockingly.

Stiles snatched it out of his hand. "Well excuse me ... I didn't happen to see a copy of "Now That You've Found Your Werewolf Mate" at Barnes and Noble! You know, you guys are pretty secretive."

"Gee, I wonder why," Derek retorted.

"Why me?" Stiles asked softly.

Derek swallowed and made a decision. He leaned forward and gently cupped Stiles' cheek with one hand. When shocked amber eyes looked at him, Derek found himself captivated again like the first day in the woods. He could scent the self-doubt beginning to form. Enough of that.

"I don't know _why_, Stiles ... does it really matter?"

"Dude ... I'm not even gay ..." Stiles said.

"That's a human word ... a human label ... werewolves are different – it doesn't matter that you're male. It just matters that you're you." Derek explained.

Stiles heard what Derek was saying but it was becoming hard to concentrate. Nothing to do with the delicious leather and cinnamon scent. Or the green eyes that he wanted to study in extensive detail. Nope. Unconsciously, Stiles leaned forward as he'd done in the cruiser. He had to get closer ... had to get more of that smell ... had to fall into that gaze …

"Stiles."

Derek's firm voice made Stiles shake his head and pull back. The haze didn't depart completely but it lessened somewhat. "What ... was that?"

"It's the blood call," Derek growled. Stiles suddenly noticed that Derek had released him and was gripping his own thigh tightly … claws extended.

"What are you doing?!" Stiles said, the fog departing. For some reason, his heart was racing even more than usual and he wanted to stop the bleeding … or bandage it … or _something_.

"Stiles!"

"What!" Stiles said, frantic now.

"Look at me, Stiles," Derek commanded before his mate could work himself into a panic.

Stiles shivered and did as the werewolf asked. He knew his will was being subverted by something he didn't understand, but Stiles couldn't bring himself to care as he met Derek's green eyes.

"What ... what's happening to me?" Stiles asked. He hated the tremor in his voice.

Derek swallowed hard thinking maybe looking directly into Stiles' eyes wasn't the smartest plan. "I told you ... it's the blood call. My wolf ... it wants ... " Derek leaned forward, inhaling the pleasant sunshine scent that signified Stiles. "You smell ... so good ... Stiles ..."

Stiles whimpered softly as Derek moved closer until his nose was against the side of Stiles' neck. He couldn't believe how turned on he was and how much he wanted to keep smelling the spiced leather scent of his mate. Derek ... his ... mate ...

Stiles groaned when Derek's tongue flicked out and brushed against his throat. The growl that rumbled out of Derek jerked another groan out of Stiles. He gradually sank down until he was flat on his back with Derek over him. Stiles shivered. He wanted ... _something_. All the dreams, all the confusion, all the _need_ was focused on Derek right now. He wanted Derek ... he wanted for Derek to claim him but he didn't know why he wanted that ... he didn't know why he wasn't trying to pull away.

Stiles' mind was spinning ... he barely knew Derek Hale. He'd only just learned of the existence of werewolves – and seeing what it was doing to his best friend didn't exactly make him want to sign up. Well, until now ... right now if Derek asked him, Stiles thought he might say yes ... he might say yes to being bitten.

Derek was slowly moving down Stiles' body, sniffing and occasionally rubbing his face against the boy's torso. He pushed up Stiles' shirt, loving the sound the teen made – not quite a plea but close. He leaned down and kissed along the curve of Stiles ribcage, tasting the skin of his mate. It was more than intoxicating ... it was heaven. Derek couldn't believe that this slender but muscular body belonged to the one he would spend his life protecting and providing for ... he just could not believe this boy was his mate. Stiles was so very ... young.

Derek reared back with a pained whine. He moved back until he was pressed against the wall beneath the window. He heaved in large gulps of air and wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. Stiles, disoriented and alarmed, struggled to sit up.

"D-D-Derek ... what – did I do something wrong?" Stiles asked, confused.

Derek's wolf was howling. _Claimclaimclaimtaketakematematemate_

He shook his head sharply. "No ... Stiles ... not you ... I can't – I can't do that to you - "

Stiles frowned. "Wait ... you're not seriously giving me the 'you're too young and innocent' speech, are you?"

Derek grimaced and fought to get his body back under control. Stiles, however, was not having that ... he had no wolf, but his entire being was thrumming with a desire he'd never experienced in his short life. Werewolves roaming the woods ... hell, an entire pack running down the middle of the street ... no longer mattered. They could have located ten dead bodies on the Hale property and at this moment Stiles did not think he would care. He scrambled up and managed to press his lips against Derek's in what had to be the sloppiest, least coordinated kiss in recorded history.

Derek knew he should have shoved Stiles off his lap when the boy straddled him in order to plant a kiss. He should have done several things but the only thing on his mind at that moment was the softness of Stiles' lips and the desperation behind the action. Derek understood desperation. He took Stiles' head in both hands and promptly devoured the teen's mouth. Stiles opened to him and Derek began to taste what he'd longed for since that fateful day on the preserve.

"What the _hell_ is going on here?!" Sheriff Stilinski's voice tore through the soft whimpers and groans emerging between the two.

Derek all but threw Stiles off him. He tried very hard not to see the hurt look ... _again_. Nevertheless, Stiles stood and put himself between Derek and his dad.

"Dad! Dad ... wait! He's not – he didn't -" Stiles stammered.

The sheriff ignored his son and stalked around him to confront Derek. "He's sixteen, Hale – _sixteen_. Do you want to tell me why the fuck you are in my son's bedroom in the middle of the night ... _kissing him_? What else did you do, you sick -"

Derek dropped his eyes much as Stiles had done earlier. He said nothing. Stiles, however, was as vocal as ever.

"_Dad_! Will you listen? Derek didn't do anything ... its not what it looks like – well, I mean it _was_ but it didn't mean anything. I mean ... it meant _something_ but it's not ... he didn't ... _do_ anything!"

"He did something, alright – he picked the wrong kid. You come near him again ... you so much as _breathe _in his direction and I will rain all manner of hell down on you. _Am I _clear?!"

Stiles dad said low and dangerous. Derek nodded sullenly. "Get the hell out. Now."

"_DAD_!" Stiles cried.

The sheriff rounded on his son. "You and I are going to have a very long talk, Stiles." When he turned back, Derek was gone. "Did he – did he seriously just jump out the window?"

Stiles ran to the window and peered out into the night not expecting to see much. Then he saw them – two luminous blue dots staring back at him from the darkness. Derek. His dad did not see them, thankfully, when he pulled his son back into the bedroom and shut the window. Stiles had never seen his father so angry.

"Dad ... he didn't ... nothing _happened_."

Stiles' father held up a hand. "Not. Another. Word." He pointed to Stiles' bed. "You are going to go to bed and we are going to talk about this tomorrow."

Stiles exhaled loudly. "Fine."

He jerked when his father was suddenly gripping his shoulders and pulling them until they were face to face. His eyes nearly crossed trying to see his dad's face.

"You _will_ listen to me ... I don't care what the hell Derek Hale told you, Stiles. You are _not_ to be around him any more. You will go to school, practice and you will come home," Stiles' father said angrily. "The next time he steps foot in this house, I will have him arrested. And I'll make sure he doesn't walk. Got it?"

"Got it," Stiles replied shakily.

"Go to bed, Stiles."

* * *

After a night of watching the moonlight move shadows across his ceiling, Stiles felt his heart jump into his throat when there was the faintest scratch against the glass. Getting out of bed, he made his way as silently as he could to open the window. Derek was there and then he was climbing into Stiles' room.

"Derek!" Stiles hissed. "My dad -"

"He's asleep," Derek assured Stiles.

Stiles leaned in to kiss Derek again only to find hands holding him back. "Uh, Derek?"

"Stiles, I can't ... it should never have gone that far," Derek whispered sadly.

"I'm old enough -"

"No," Derek interrupted. "No you're not, Stiles. I can't – I can't be away from you but I _can_ wait until you're eighteen."

"Eighteen?!"

Derek pressed his hand against Stiles' mouth and listened for a change in the sheriff's heartbeat but it remained steady in sleep. He growled softly and looked at the teen.

"Stiles ... this ... it can be managed and controlled just like the changes Scott's going through," Derek said softly.

"But ... the article ... it said ..."

"I know what it said. It won't be easy but it can be done. I won't steal this part of your life, Stiles. When you're eighteen, you can decide for yourself. Until then, I can't – I can't claim you no matter how much I want to."

"So that's it? You just go on with your little werewolf drama and what? Poor little Stiles just has to deal?" he was angry now. Very angry. "Why the hell did you come over here? Why'd you have to make me _feel _that link if you were only going to tell me I'm too young?" I'm so tired of people deciding what's _best_ for me."

"Stiles -"

"I wish I'd never gone into those woods, Derek. I wish I'd never met you. Get the fuck out." Stiles snarled.

"Wait ... I didn't - "

"Take your fucking werewolf ass out of my house or I will yell and bring my dad in here – he just might shoot first," Stiles warned.

Derek fell silent and studied Stiles' eyes one last time before he was out the window and gone. Stiles closed and locked the window before closing the curtains over it.

If he slept with his face pressed against the shirt that held Derek's scent from their encounter, no one needed to know but him and the moon. And when the mournful howls of a wolf reached him in the night, no one was around to see the tears.


	8. Chapter 8

Stiles walked into school on auto-pilot. His mind was somewhere in the Beacon Hills Preserve with a certain werewolf. A certain werewolf that had appeared and, with a few growled words, torn Stiles' life right off its base. His best friend was a werewolf in love with a girl whose parents were Hunters who _killed_ werewolves and him? Well, Stiles Stilinski had the dubious honor of being the _fucking mate_ of a werewolf. Had he complained his life was boring? He took it all back … Stiles would have given anything in that minute to _not_ be in the middle of the soap opera of his life.

* * *

This morning had been probably one of the most awkward discussions he'd ever had with his dad. Awkward and painful.

"So?" Sheriff Stilinski said the minute Stiles walked into the kitchen.

"Dad …"

"Don't 'Dad' me, Stiles … I come home to find you lip-locked with an accused killer –"

"You said he'd been released because there wasn't evidence!" Stiles had reminded his father.

"That doesn't mean I trust him! What if he was just trying to get close to the case through you?"

A very heavy rock had settled in Stiles' stomach at that moment. He hadn't considered that Derek could be _lying_ to him. The thought was shoved aside quickly. What he'd felt – what he continued to feel – was too strong to be a lie. Stiles didn't think he had enough imagination to make up the link between himself and Derek. It was that tangible.

"He wasn't lying but thanks for the vote of confidence. What, you don't think I could snag a hot guy like Derek Hale?"

The sheriff paused. "Do you _want_ to snag a guy like Derek Hale?"

Stiles fell silent … a rare occurrence. Then he managed, "Well … I mean … if I – wanted … I'd try for – what difference does it make? I kissed the guy … that's _all_ that happened!"

"Stiles … your sixteen and he's most definitely _not_ sixteen. Besides, you don't even know him! I can't even fathom how you thought I would be ok with this!"

"I just thought I had a connection with the guy … besides, you made it pretty clear he wasn't welcome and well … I might have told him the same thing last night." Stiles muttered.

"Wait … so last night was what exactly?" Sheriff Stilinski watched his son's face.

"Can we drop it already? He's not coming back, I _really _don't want to go into it," Stiles pleaded. "You got what you wanted, Dad … just leave it. I feel dumb enough as it is."

"Son, you know I'm just –"

Stiles groaned. "I know, I know … you're just looking out for me. And I appreciate it dad, I really do … I just … I made a stupid call and now it's over with."

Stiles couldn't reconcile the statement with how his throat seemed to close up at the thought of never seeing Derek again, but his father seemed to relax a little so he counted it a win.

* * *

"Stiles … you still with me?" Scott's voice broke through Stiles' musings.

"Yeah, yeah … so you killed her?"

Stiles thanked God for his overactive mind that allowed him to register more than one thing at a time. Focusing, he listened to Scott continue relating his dream of the night before.

"I don't know! I just woke up! I was in sweat and I couldn't breathe ... I never had a dream where I woke up like that before..."

Stiles snorted. **"**Really? I have. Usually it ends a little differently." He thought back to the dream he had last night when sleep finally came to him. Yeah … _that_ ending had resulted in yet another sheet change for his bed and maybe a few more tearstains on the pillow case.

Scott winced. "A: I said I never had a dream that made me feel that way, and B: _Never_ give me so much detail about your dreams."

Stiles smirked. "Noted. Let me take a guess, here..."

"No, I... I know. You think it has something to do with me going out with Allison tomorrow. Like I'm gonna lose control and throttle her out."

"No, of course not!" Stiles protested. Then, seeing the look on Scott's face he sighed. "Yeah, that's totally it... Hey, come on, it's gonna be fine, alright? Personally, I think you're handling it pretty amazingly. You know, it's not like, like there's some lycanthropy beginner's class you can take..." Stiles remembered saying something similar to Derek the night before.

_Fuck, why does it hurt so much?_

Scott looked pensive. "Yeah, not a class, but... maybe a teacher …?"

Stiles' eyes widened as he realized the train of thought Scott was on. He swallowed. What if his rejection of the werewolf blew back on Scott? That would not be good – Derek was their only source of werewolf knowledge. "Derek? " Stiles thumped Scott on the back of the head. "Did you forget the part when we put him in jail ?!"

"Yeah, I know! But, Stiles … chasing her, driving her to the back of the bus, it just felt... so real!" Scott lamented.

"How real?" Stiles asked, curious. His own dreams regarding Derek were vivid in sensation.

"Like it actually happened..." Scott began.

Walking out to the parking lot, Scott and Stiles came to a shocked halt. A school bus stood there – the emergency door torn aside with claw marks decorating the inside panel. The true decorating detail was the massive amount of blood all over the door, the side of the bus and inside.

Stiles wondered if his best friend committed murder while he was getting his adenoid washed by Derek's tongue. He shifted uncomfortably at the memory and shot a worried look at Scott but his friend was too worried at what he might have done to bother scenting Stiles.

"Uh … Scott … I think maybe your dream _did _happen …"

Scott turned on his heel and began texting Allison frantically. Stiles tried to console him and reassure Scott that it was just a coincidence that the bus was torn apart and his girlfriend was missing on the tail of an incredibly vivid dream of doing just that … it didn't sound any better aloud than it did in Stiles' head.

* * *

"Come _on_, Stiles! I need to talk to him … I've got to know!" Scott pleaded.

"Fine, so go see him! Why do you need me?" Stiles protested.

Scott wanted Stiles to drive him to see Derek so that he could try to figure out if he was the one who attacked the bus driver the previous night. Seeing Derek this soon was quite possibly the worst thing Stiles could imagine at the moment. Scott, however, was oblivious to Stiles' discomfort and was now giving him 'the look'.

"Stop it, Scott … the puppy-dog eyes won't work … I'm not … oh just get in!" Stiles said, giving in as he always did.

_This is sooo not good,_ Stiles thought miserably.

"Dude … I meant to ask … you reek of Derek today. Did you see him last night or something?" Scott asked. His head snapped around before Stiles could answer. "Stiles? What's wrong? Hey … are you really _that_ afraid of him?"

Stiles wanted to blurt out everything but he couldn't. He couldn't betray Derek's trust that way and what was there, really, to say? He'd effectively told Derek to fuck off and the werewolf had obliged. Never mind that Stiles regretted every angry word that had emerged from his overactive mouth last night … it was done and there wasn't any going back.

"No," Stiles lied. "And I ran into him last night … he came to talk to Dad but there was just me. He left."

_Lame, Stilinski … very weak and very lame, _Stiles thought.

Fortunately, as had been the case all day, Scott was too wound up in his own troubles to notice Stiles' lie. He just nodded and sighed.

"I don't know if I want to know this, Stiles," Scott said softly.

Stiles reached over and clapped his friend on the shoulder. "I told you … it'll be ok. We'll figure it out somehow. I just don't … I don't think you have it in you to be some rabid midnight killer. You didn't before the wolf thing. Don't see why you'd be that way now."

Scott gave a weak smile. "Thanks, Stiles …"

"Don't mention it … unless, of course, you want to extoll all my stunning qualities to Lydia," Stiles joked. How odd that Lydia's name should taste like ash when he said it.

Pulling up to the Hale house, Stiles got out with Scott but did not approach the porch. He listened to the conversation and tried very hard not to watch Derek's mouth while he talked. He tried not to remember how those lips felt kissing their way down his body.

_Keep it under control, Stilinski. Keep it under control._

* * *

Derek forgot how to breathe again when he scented Stiles before the Jeep even stopped moving. He clenched his hands into fists and struggled to find his calm. The boy had made it very clear how he felt … Derek had no idea how he would survive it, but he was trapped with a mate that most definitely did not want him. It figured that he would have fucked up the one relationship that was supposed to be inviolate.

Standing on the porch, Derek spared a single glance toward Stiles who stood beside his Jeep watching the exchange. He looked at Scott and wondered, not for the first time, why it had been _this_ kid to be bitten and not his mate. He didn't know if it would have made things easier, but it would have cemented the bond a hell of a lot faster. He listened to Scott and thought that the kid had good reason to be afraid. He suspected the alpha had called Scott out … Scott had to figure it out for himself, unfortunately.

"Can you at least tell me the truth?" Scott pleaded. "Am I going to hurt someone?"

"Yes," Derek replied.

"Can I kill someone?" Scott asked.

"Yes," Derek responded.

"_Am_ I going to kill someone?"

Derek regarded Scott coolly. "Probably."

Stiles was done. He stalked onto the porch and glared at Derek. "Enough, would you? We _get _it … he's got this wolf instinct that might drive him to hurt someone. Can you help him or not?"

Derek's wolf rose up in a snarl at Stiles' voice. It did _not_ like being challenged. His eyes narrowed and then he shifted his gaze back to Scott. The kid looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole.

"Look," Derek said softly. "I can show you how to remember. I can show you how to control the shift … even on a full moon. But it's not going to come for free."

Stiles let out a rude sound but Scott looked back at Derek. "What do you want?"

"You'll see. But for now, I'm going to give you what _you_ want," Derek said. His eyes flicked over to Stiles before settling again on Scott. "Go back to the bus. Go inside. _See_ it. _Feel _it. Let your senses … your sight, smell, touch … let them remember for you."

Scott frowned. "That's it? Just … go back?"

"Do you want to know what happened?" Derek asked.

Scott met the older man's eyes. "I just want to know if I hurt him."

Derek chuckled. "No you don't. You want to know if you'll hurt _her_."

Scott could not argue the point. He turned to go back to the Jeep. Stiles followed until he heard his name spoken so softly he thought he imagined it.

"Stiles."

Stiles froze but did not turn to look at Derek. If he did, he was quite certain he would run back up on the porch and thoroughly humiliate himself in front of Scott. "What?"

"Stick close to him … he's going to need a friend."

"Never planned to do anything else," Stiles replied.

He got in his Jeep with Scott and turned up the radio. Scott looked at him oddly.

"Stiles? You ok?"

"Yeah … wait … no, no I'm not. Just stay here, I'll be right back." Stiles said firmly.

Scott's eyes widened but he nodded. He watched as his best friend walked up to Derek. He had no idea what Stiles was up to, but if Derek touched him, Scott was going to definitely be hurting or killing someone.

* * *

Derek remained statue still on the porch as his erstwhile mate walked back to him. Stiles' eyes were flashing that peculiar golden way again … he was very angry. Fine. Derek understood angry. Angry he could handle.

"Scott's my best friend, Derek. I'd do just about anything for the guy. He _needs_ your help. Don't fuck around with him because you're pissed at me, alright?" Stiles snapped.

Derek's eyes shifted for a moment and then he was standing in front of Stiles, his own temper at its end.

"Don't flatter yourself, Stiles … you were a cute diversion but I don't have time to invest in your little tantrums. You don't figure into whether or not I'll help Scott."

Stiles swallowed hard. "What – what about the whole mates thing?"

Derek grinned but there was little humor in it. "Don't believe everything you read on the internet."

Stiles paled. He turned and walked quickly back to his Jeep. He felt a hole opening up inside him and he just wanted to let it swallow him whole. Scott looked at him worriedly.

"Stiles?"

"Just making sure frown-face is really going to help you," Stiles growled.

Scott didn't ask why Stiles smelled so sad.

* * *

Derek watched the Jeep peel out and away down the road. When he was certain they were out of sight, Derek stumbled back against the wall and slid down it. He threw his head back and howled. His chest heaved as he fought the grief that was building inside of him.

_Stiles … forgive me …_


	9. Chapter 9

Stiles stomped back to the Jeep while Scott scaled the gate in front of the school. The bus where the driver had been attacked sat dark and silent. Orange cones and yellow tape cordoned off the blood smeared door at the back. Climbing back into the vehicle, Stiles sat in the dark and watched Scott enter the bus. He'd wanted to go along because then his mind would have something other than Derek Hale to focus on. Now, all he could do was sit alone and replay every minute of the horrible conversation.

Stiles wasn't an idiot. He'd hurt Derek deeply the other night and this was payback. Really excruciatingly painful payback that left Stiles feeling as though he would never be whole again. The last time he felt like this ... Stiles shoved _that _memory aside. It was worse than wrong to be comparing his grief over losing his mother to losing Derek. His mother had _loved _him with all her heart. Stiles doubted Derek Hale knew the meaning of the word.

When had everything gone pear-shaped? Only days ago he'd been a normal teenager with no more cares beyond what to wear and how to get Lydia Martin to notice him. On the heels of learning that Scott was a werewolf with all its associate perks and drawbacks, Stiles had actually believed he was the one and only of a certain bastard named Derek Hale. Stiles groaned and put his forehead against the steering wheel. Could he _be _any more gullible? He didn't even _like _guys ... at least he thought he didn't. Hell, now Derek had him wondering about _that. _

Derek. Why couldn't he stop thinking about those damnable green eyes? Stiles read some make-believe shit about 'true mates' and Derek used that to ... what? Stiles swallowed the sudden lump in his throat as his face burned with shame. He felt sick to his stomach when he remembered how he'd moaned under Derek and then clambered into the man's lap when he'd pretended to pull back. He'd been ready to beg Derek to fuck him.

"Oh my God just let me die," Stiles groaned.

He could still see the smirk on Derek's face when he revealed his deception. Hilarious. Great joke. His dad had been right – Derek had been playing him. He must have been highly amused to watch Stiles fall for all his easy lies about being drawn together. What would someone as hot as Derek want with a skinny nothing like Stiles?

"I am _such _an idiot," Stiles whispered to the roof of his Jeep.

Like anything that fantastic was ever going to happen to _him_. Who was the werewolf? Not Stiles. Nope, Stiles was still plain, ordinary and apparently dumber than a rock.

Stiles looked back toward the bus and jerked upright in his seat. A flashlight was playing back and forth in the darkness. Security or the police. Either way, Scott needed to get out and get out now. Stiles slammed his hand down on the horn, frantically pushing it to get Scott's attention. When Scott appeared running, Stiles fumbled with his keys, pausing a moment with raised eyebrows as his friend _vaulted_ over the gate and landed easily on his feet.

As awesome as that was, it only re-emphasized to Stiles that he was not, nor would he ever be, anything special. He threw the Jeep into reverse as Scott jerked open the door and fell into the passenger seat. He looked over at Scott as they sped away.

"Did it work? Did you remember?"

"Yeah, I was there last night! And the blood ... a lot of it was mine." Scott said, looking down at his body incredulously.

"So you _did _attack him," Stiles stated.

"No! I – I saw glowing eyes on the bus but they weren't mine. It was Derek ... it had to be." Scott said with conviction.

"What about the driver?"

Scott thought for a moment. "I think I was actually trying to protect him."

Stiles frowned. "Wait ... why would Derek help you remember that _he_ attacked the driver?"

"That's what I don't get," Scott said exasperated.

"It's gotta be a pack thing ..."

"What do you mean?"

Stiles sighed. "Like an initiation ... you two kill together."

Scott looked at his friend. "What, because tearing someone's throat out is a real bonding experience?"

"Yeah, but you didn't do it! Which means that you're not a killer! And it also means - "

"That I can go out with Allison!" Scott finished.

Stiles looked at Scott with a bemused expression. "I was going to say it means you won't kill me."

"Oh yeah," Scott said sheepishly. "That too!"

* * *

Derek drove into town just for something to keep his mind busy. Stiles' face when he thought Derek had lied about the blood call being real ... why couldn't he put any other expression on his mate's face besides pain, sadness or confusion? In the midst of all the darkness that permeated his life, Stiles had been the one light. Derek could not remember a time when he'd felt this way ... he'd looked forward to every interaction he could have with the teen. It didn't matter that his mate was young ... that was just biological age. He could easily wait the two years until Stiles was 'legal'. It was worth it. _Stiles _was worth anything he had to do in order to claim him. Derek blew out a breath. That realization terrified him – the last few times he'd thrown caution to the wind for something he desired it had not ended well.

Not that it mattered now ... Stiles probably hated him and Derek wouldn't blame him but it was the only choice he had. The alpha was already calling Scott out against his will ... if he was going to survive this, he would need all the support he could find. Scott needed Stiles more than he realized.

Derek's breath hitched in his chest. No matter what he did, all he could think of was his mate's scent ... the feel of his skin beneath Derek's tongue. Because of the bond he _wanted_ Stiles ... it was a slow-burning fever just below his skin. He wanted to take Stiles apart and pull him together again ... he wanted to hear Stiles' wrecked voice calling his name ... he wanted to hold Stiles close as the climax took him and feel him shiver through the aftershocks ... he _wanted._

He wished he could run the woods forever ... go feral and let the wolf take him. Despite his lies to Stiles, Derek knew the link _was_ real and he _was_ feeling all the pain of denying and now rejecting his mate.

Looking down at the dash, Derek numbly realized he was almost on empty. He pulled into the gas station and went through the motions of filling his tank. He stared at the nozzle in his hand without seeing it, his brain was a thousand miles from Beacon Hills and this lonely gas station. Derek didn't register the cars pulling up until his vehicle was blocked. He stared at them blankly. He could smell the gun oil and ammo ... Hunters. It would be appropriate for him to die this way after he'd effectively driven off the one person he needed more than air. Derek would welcome it at this point. He finished and secured the gas cap, then turned to face the leader calmly.

Chris Argent climbed out of his SUV and smiled at Derek. He had hunted werewolves like the one before him before ... they hid behind the guise of humans and pretended they were like everyone else. And they were ... until they turned like animals. That was where he and his kind came in ... capture and kill if necessary. Otherwise, make sure the wolves knew their place and stayed there. Argent walked over to Derek's car.

"Nice ride," Chris said conversationally. "Black cars, though. Very hard to keep clean." He rubbed a thumb along a supposed dirty spot, buffing it. He took the squeegee and began to wash one side of Derek's windshield, still talking in a soft, reasonable voice. "I would definitely suggest a little more maintenance. If you have something this nice, you want to take care of it, right? Personally, I'm very protective of the things I love. That's something I learned from my family ... and you don't have much of that these days, do you?"

Derek clenched one hand into a fist. His pain over the loss of his family and now his one surviving sister, was still raw even after all the intervening years. Still, now was not the time nor place for a confrontation. He could wait. His hand relaxed slowly.

Argent smiled mockingly. "There we go." He turned to go back to his SUV when Derek spoke again. Later, Derek would muse that his bond with Stiles came with the tendency to mouth off when silence would be the smarter course.

"You forgot to check the oil," Derek said calmly.

Chris Argent smiled to himself. So the wolf wanted to play did he? Alright. Chris would play. He turned and met Derek's eyes. "Check the man's oil."

A Hunter from the other vehicle walked over to the driver's side and shattered the window with the butt of his rifle. Derek sighed inwardly.

"Drive safely," Argent offered as he and his companions drove off.

Derek stood in the cold light of the gas station for a little while after they left, musing over how things just never seemed to work out the way he intended.

* * *

Stiles swallowed hard as he stared at the Hale house. He was here only because of his friendship with Scott. Stiles was done mourning what had to be the strangest and shortest relationship on record. He had no more tears to cry for a lone werewolf he barely knew. No more. He was here for Scott's sake. Stiles kept telling himself that as he crossed the threshold into the Hale home.

The feeling of _need_ surged into him the minute he was fully inside the door. Stiles shivered and his eyes widened. Mate ... his mate was here ... Derek ...

_What the fuck - ? _Stiles thought frantically.

Scott was oblivious to Stiles' dilemma as he stood at the base of the staircase and challenged the older werewolf. Stiles couldn't think above the _mateneedmateneedDerekwantDerekwantwantwant_ echoing in his mind. He could only hear his rapid-fire heartbeat and knowing that Derek could hear it too sent a thrill through Stiles. What the hell was happening to him? Stiles backed toward the door and felt a very real stab of pain. He winced and took another step back ... the pain bit into him like a knife. _Matematematederekderekderekderek_

_I'm __so__ fucked,_ Stiles thought.

"Derek! I know you're here! I know what you did!" Scott yelled.

Stiles flinched against the way the answering voice left him breathless. "_I _didn't do anything ..."

Scott began to climb the stairs, leaving Stiles standing by the front door, struggling to regain control over his traitorous body and mind. It was all he could do not to take the stairs two at a time until he reached the top ... and Derek.

"You killed him!" Scott accused.

Stiles bit back the protest that surged to his lips ... the beta was challenging his mate ... that wouldn't stand.

_The 'beta'? You mean _ _Scott_ _?! Oh Stiles my man, you are losing it ..._

"He _died_." Derek's voice was like a balm over Stiles' quickly shredding nerves.

Scott snorted. "Like your sister died?"

_Seriously, Scott ... stop it ... stop ... trying to hurt him ..._

"My sister was missing ... I came here looking for her."

"You found her," Scott pointed out.

Stiles took a step toward the stairs when Derek's pained voice replied.

"I found her in _pieces_! Being used as bait to catch me."

Scott continued his climb up the stairs. Derek was fighting with his wolf even as he answered the beta. Stiles had entered the house, the blood call had flared and all of his resolve had come crumbling down around his ears. Derek could hear Stiles' heartbeat and there was no sweeter sound. Strong and fast, it echoed his own. Apparently, the bond between them would not be denied.

Underneath Stiles scent was a layer of pain – heart pain that Derek had caused. He clenched one hand into a fist. He had to deal with the beta first – Scott's scent was all anger and frustration.

"I think you killed both of them," Scott said. "And I'm going to tell everyone, starting with the sheriff."

Stiles startled himself by growling. Scott turned with a frown and Stiles could only shrug. Scott shook his head and gained the upper landing. He could scent Derek, but he couldn't tell where he was exactly.

Stiles saw Derek move out of the shadows and his mouth went dry. Before he could even form the thought about calling a warning, Derek had tossed Scott down the stairs. Stiles moved toward Scott but abruptly halted when Scott looked at him. The wolf had pushed to the surface – Scott's eyes gleamed yellow and his teeth were long and sharp. He growled warningly at Stiles then turned and roared at Derek.

Derek's chest rumbled with a snarl. Stiles felt it all the way through his body ... Derek's wolf was warning off the other beta. Scott heard the warning. He ignored it. Derek launched himself outward and down toward the bottom of the staircase.

The minute Derek landed, Scott put himself between Stiles and the older werewolf. Derek took two steps toward him and Scott reacted by throwing him through the nearest wall.

"Derek!" Stiles cried out.

The bond overrode conscious thought and Stiles was moving past Scott to get to Derek. Scott threw out an arm and blocked his friend who looked at him blankly, as though seeing him for the first time. Scott cocked his head to one side and Stiles blinked.

"S-scott?"

Stiles' attention snapped back to Derek as the man muttered, "That was cute ..." in reference to Scott's maneuver. Derek looked directly at Stiles and slowly removed his jacket. Without breaking the gaze, Derek advanced toward the teens. His shoulders rolled and Stiles mouth dropped open as Derek shifted in front of them. Stiles wondered how it was fair that Derek got even _more _sexy in his werewolf form.

Derek paused and roared at Scott, issuing the challenge. Stiles froze where he was as Scott dove through the hole made by Derek's body and charged. With another roar, Derek met Scott and the fight was on.

Few humans survived witnessing a fight between two werewolves but Stiles had protection provided by the fact that both of the battling werewolves cared for him a great deal and would do nothing to hurt him. Unfortunately for Stiles, he reciprocated those feelings and watching them fight one another was painful in the extreme.

Stiles stood trembling in the main hall as Scott and Derek fought. He was torn between cheering his best friend on or marveling at the strange animal grace of Derek's movements. The choice was made when Derek ended the fight by slashing Scott across the chest. The beta stumbled to the floor, moaning in pain.

"Scott!" Stiles yelled, running his friend's side.

Glaring over at Derek, Stiles watched him returning to his human form. He had a momentary speechless moment when Derek turned to face them and his sweat soaked t-shirt clung to his very ripped upper body.

"Holy -" Stiles gasped.

Derek's eyes darted to Stiles for just an instant and the teen thought he saw something like heat in them. Then his attention was back on Scott.

"I didn't kill him," Derek said, meaning the bus driver. "Neither of us did. It's not your fault and it's not mine."

Scott's temper flared again. "This?! This is all your fault! You ruined my life!"

Derek circled the beta warily. "No ... I didn't."

"You're the one who bit me," Scott accused.

"No ... I'm _not_."

"What?!" Scott and Stiles shouted together.

Derek stared directly at Stiles. "I'm not the one that bit Scott."

Scott looked down at his already healed chest and ran a finger through the blood that was there. His body suddenly jolted like he was being electrocuted. Derek held a hand out to stay Stiles from touching Scott.

"Wait ... let him remember," Derek said softly.

Scott jerked again and then he was looking at Derek with wide eyes. "There's another ..."

_Finally,_ Derek thought.

"It's called an alpha – it's the most dangerous of our kind. You and I? We're betas," Derek explained. "This thing is more powerful ... more animal than either of us. My sister came here looking for it and now I'm trying to find him. But I don't think I can do it without you."

"Why me?" Scott asked hoarsely.

"Because he's the one that bit you," Stiles answered, causing both betas to look at him. "Scott's part of his pack, isn't he?"

Derek nodded. "It's you, Scott. You're the one he wants."


	10. Chapter 10

"Go, Scott ... I'll be fine," Stiles assured his friend.

"Stiles, what's going on? You smell ... off," Scott finished lamely.

Stiles gave Scott an amused look. "Don't worry about it, buddy ... just take the Jeep and go. Derek'll give me a ride home and you can grab me for school mañana."

Scott regarded his best friend. He was thoroughly confused and when he looked at Derek, the werewolf's expression was blank, his heartbeat and scent muted to reveal nothing. Only an hour ago, he'd had to beg Stiles to come with him to the Hale house. Now Stiles was taking a ride home with Derek because they needed to _talk? _And what was with his weird behavior during Scott's fight with Derek?

"Stiles ... what's going on?"

Stiles sighed. "I'll tell you later." He shot a glare at Derek who growled at that.

Scott looked between the two and finally relented. He took the keys to the Jeep but grabbed Stiles' arm before he could turn away. "Stiles ... be careful."

Stiles grinned and clapped Scott on the shoulder. "Relax, buddy ... you're overthinkin' this, ok?"

Derek rolled his eyes and climbed in his Camero. Stiles joined him and they drove away. Scott stood watching for a bit and then he drove home. He hoped Stiles knew what he was doing.

* * *

Stiles had no idea what he was doing and he'd never been so nervous in his life. Everything he'd felt before and during the fight was still echoing through his brain ... and body. His hands felt clammy and he wiped them on his jeans while his leg twitched in a staccato rhythm. Derek's mouth quirked slightly.

"Stiles ... relax."

"Don't ..."

Stiles swallowed as he felt the unusual wave of calm slide over him. Derek glanced sideways at his mate.

"Better?"

Stiles slid down a little in the seat and nodded. "Waaay better than Adderall, dude ... waaaay better ..."

Derek shoved Stiles' head. Stiles grinned and pulled away. "So where are we going?"

"You'll see," Derek replied.

Stiles was able to stay quiet for another minute. "Uh ... Derek ... back at the house ..."

"I know."

"You know. Well _that's_ a relief. Mind sharing with the class?" Stiles snarked.

"It's the blood call, Stiles. It's ... just be patient ok? I'll explain when we get there," Derek looked over at Stiles. His mate crossed his arms and slumped back in the seat with ... Derek frowned as he realized Stiles had a _pout_ on his , the sight of the teen's lower lip pushed out like that did not bring the usual annoyance to surface. No, it was an entirely different response altogether. Derek gripped the steering wheel a little harder.

Stiles stared out the window and watched the scenery go past. He knew he should still be upset with Derek ... he should be furious. Right now, however, he couldn't summon any emotions outside curiosity and dim arousal. He frowned when Derek finally pulled off the road and parked. He thought he new every area of the preserve, but he'd never seen the place before.

"Derek?"

Derek didn't answer. Instead, he reached across Stiles, pulled a flashlight out of the glove box and handed it to the teen. Stiles scrambled to catch up when Derek got out of the car and started walking. He tripped before he got the flashlight on. Derek caught him before he hit the ground and made sure he was stable before releasing him and walking off.

"Hey!" Stiles protested.

"Come _on_, Stiles ... we don't have all night," Derek's voice floated back.

"Human with _no night vision_ back here, wolfman!" Stiles complained, watching the light play along what he hoped was the correct direction.

"That's why I gave you the flashlight," Derek said from right beside Stiles.

Stiles squeaked and glared at Derek ... or in the general direction of Derek's voice. With a huffed breath, Stiles began to pick his way forward again. The teen sighed. Whatever he was hoping for tonight, breaking his neck in the dark wasn't a desired was grousing under his breath when he walked into Derek who had paused to let him catch up. Blue eyes gleamed as Derek steadied the boy.

"Can you do this?" Derek asked.

Stiles glared again. "You mean walk in the woods in the middle of the frickin' night?" he snapped. "Yeah, got that covered ... doin' it without putting myself in the hospital? Not so much!"

Derek sighed. "Do you want me to carry you?"

"Carry – no, dude! I just ... can you at least slow down?"

Derek said nothing and Stiles couldn't see the corner of his mouth lift. He schooled his features into a controlled mask and gave a pained sigh.

Derek took Stiles by the arm and began walking again, pulling the teen along beside him. Stiles stumbled more than once but their forward progress was more consistent. By the time they reached Derek's destination, Stiles was breathing heavily. They'd gone up an incline that seemed to get steeper with every step. Stiles stood dragging in gulps of air. Derek chuckled.

"You're out of shape."

Stiles glared. "No ... one told me ... we ... were gonna ... climb ... a mountain tonight!" Stiles complained, gasping.

Derek again said nothing and led Stiles carefully onto the overhang. Stiles could vaguely make out the rock he was standing on but beyond that was nothing but ink black darkness. Stiles swayed.

Derek quickly steadied the boy. "Just relax ... better?"

"You know ... you could bottle that ... make money ..." Stiles said thickly as Derek forced calm at him.

"I'll keep that in mind," Derek said, amused. "Come on, sit down."

Stiles lowered himself cautiously to the rock and Derek sat beside him. Together they looked down at the lights of Beacon Hills. Derek didn't pull away when their shoulders touched and was pleased that Stiles didn't either. Neither of them said anything. Stiles wished he could see Derek's face but leaning against his shoulder was comforting.

"So now what?" Stiles finally asked.

Derek sighed. "I have no idea."

"Well, that's ... totally unhelpful ..."

Derek growled but then said, "I'm open to suggestions."

Stiles thought for a moment. "Ok, never mind about what it's _gonna_ be ... what is it right now?"

"_It_?" Derek asked.

"Yeah, _it ... us ..this_," Stiles said, gesturing between them.

Derek frowned. "You're my mate, Stiles."

"Oh so that _is_ a real thing?"

Derek was grateful for the darkness so Stiles didn't see his face heat up. He sighed again.

"Yes ... I lied earlier." Derek admitted. "I just – you're so damn _young_."

"So you keep mentioning ... noticed it didn't stop you from gettin' all up in this in my bedroom," Stiles reminded Derek.

Derek groaned. "That should _not_ have happened ... I told you that."

"Yeah, but it _did_, Derek. And today? I step foot in the door and all I want to do is find you and – yeah, well ... anyway," Stiles trailed off, embarrassed.

"'Get all up in this'?" Derek supplied.

It was Stiles' turn to groan. "Dude ... that sounds so wrong when you say it."

"Stiles." Derek looked at Stiles, his eyes gleaming the luminous blue. "Stiles, since I first saw you ... you're all I can think about. This doesn't happen to every werewolf – finding a mate is easy ... finding a true mate? I didn't think I'd ever be this lucky."

Stiles was silent. He hated how small his voice sounded when he ventured, "You think you're lucky?"

Derek's hand was suddenly pressing against Stiles' cheek. "The luckiest, Stiles. You're my mate ... nothing is going to change that."

Stiles looked at the gleaming eyes watching him. "So why did you try to ... make me think you didn't want me?"

Derek sighed. "I don't know what I'm doing, Stiles. I don't have anyone to ask, either. This is all ... new."

Stiles snorted. "Do you think I can go to my dad and ask him for advice on my werewolf slash ex-con boyfriend?"

Derek shook his head. "You are _so _strange."

Stiles shrugged and idly rubbed his hand across the rock he was sitting on. He looked down at the lights of the town. "Can you see my house from here?"

Derek looked out at the lights and then moved so he was behind Stiles with his head over one shoulder. He gently turned the boy's head until he was looking the right direction. "Can you make out the school? Just below that ... your dad has the front porch light on and you left your room light on."

Stiles tracked until he could just make out the light Derek was showing him. Of course, he was having a damn hard time focusing on the lights and not on the warm breath in his ear.

Derek heard Stiles' heartbeat shift and realized that he couldn't smell anything but his mate. He turned his head slightly and inhaled deeply. Stiles' groan was all it took. He flipped the teen on his back and pressed his nose just below Stiles' right ear.

"God, Stiles ... you smell so damn good ..." Derek growled.

Stiles gasped as Derek's tongue traveled down his neck again. He decided he could die happy from that sensation. He lifted his hand and pressed it against the back of Derek's neck. It was getting cold but Stiles didn't feel it anymore. All he knew was Derek's long hard body pinning him to the rock. When Derek nipped at his earlobe, Stiles' hips bucked up.

"_Derek ..."_

Derek growled making Stiles writhe under him. He paused and met Stiles' eyes. His mate's pupils were huge, his face flushed and he had the dazed expression he'd worn the night Derek had come into his bedroom. Derek would deny it to his grave, but he whimpered.

Stiles stilled underneath Derek at the sound. He blinked rapidly and looked at Derek. "We're not going to do this, are we?"

The whisper was very soft and full of an ache that Derek understood all too well. He shook his head and moved away from Stiles. "I want you, Stiles ... I want you so damn much ..."

"But I'm too young," Stiles finished wearily.

Derek pulled his mate into his lap with one strong jerk. Startled, Stiles settled into a position straddling Derek's lap as he'd done the first night. Derek ran his fingers up the back of Stiles' skull and eased down the lips he was dying to kiss. It wasn't the out of control from before ... this one was slower and very deliberate. Stiles tried to pull back once but Derek kept them pressed together. When he released them, Stiles looked slightly undone. He studied his mate's face and drew a thumb along his jawline.

"Sex is one thing, Stiles. You're old enough if that was all this was going to be – but this isn't just a one-night stand. Not for me." Derek explained. "I'm no one's idea of a romantic but you ... it's just different between us."

Stiles looked at Derek ... really _looked _at him. His eyes were hard but sad. His mouth never smiled. His face struggled with any expression beyond blank and frown. Suddenly, Stiles could feel the uncertainty in Derek. He leaned in and imitated Derek's scenting. The body he straddled shuddered in pleasure and a low moan rumbled through the broad chest. Stiles sighed and stayed leaning against Derek.

"This is crazy, Derek. I don't even _know _you." Stiles said.

"Your body understands more than you think," Derek looked sideways at Stiles. "Today, at the house, why did you growl at Scott?"

Stiles considered. "He was threatening you ... saying he was going to tell my dad about you. I – he accused you of killing your sister and the driver. It made me ... really mad."

"And do you believe I killed them?"

"Not anymore ... wasn't sure there for a while but ... no, I don't think you're a killer. Just like I didn't believe Scott did it either."

"You growled because of the bond, Stiles. Mates defend one another. When Scott attacked you in the locker room ... if you hadn't stopped me, I would have torn him to pieces for going after you," Derek explained.

"So why can't we -?"

Derek chuckled. "You're sixteen, Stiles. Jail-bait. I'd rather not go back to jail again because of you."

"Harsh, dude."

"You have no idea."

They sat in silence for a little longer. Derek felt Stiles shivering against him and pulled off his jacket to drape over his mate's shoulders. Stiles drank in the heady scent of Derek and felt himself starting to _need_ again. Derek's body tensed beneath him and he pulled back to look at his mate. The werewolf was watching him closely. Then he noticed that Derek was breathing heavily. "Derek ... ?"

Stiles found himself flipped and pinned underneath Derek again, the werewolf's mouth on his own. He returned the kiss, wishing he knew what to do ... how to move or touch. He felt the growl before his ears registered it.

"Stop," Derek's harsh voice whispered.

"W-what?" Stiles stammered.

"I can smell you starting to doubt yourself, Stiles. Stop it."

Derek's eyes were blazing blue. He nuzzled along Stiles' throat. He held Stiles down as he pressed his lips to his mate's ear.

"You're _mine_, Stiles ... all mine ... no one else can touch you ... no one else can have you ..." Derek growled.

Stiles moaned underneath Derek. The werewolf's voice was so incredibly _hot_. Derek licked just behind Stiles' ear and set off another shower of sparks behind his closed eyes.

"_Derek_..."

"You're my mate ..." Lick. "Mine." Kiss. "You belong to me ..." Hot breath trailing down to Stiles' windpipe. "And I. Don't. Share."

Stiles whimpered as Derek began licking and mouthing at the thin skin over his windpipe. He jerked when he felt Derek's fangs graze over the ridged curve. Derek stilled until he felt Stiles calm and then began again. He kissed the hollow of Stiles' throat and inhaled again. He could not get enough of his mate's scent.

"You smell so good, Stiles ... like the ground on a hot summer day ..."

"I smell ... like ... oh god ... like _dirt_ to you?"

Derek raised up, his eyes in their wolf aspect. He looked like he was about to snap angrily and Stiles began stammering.

"Dude ... you know my mouth goes without my brain stopping it ... I didn't mean ... it's not that I _mind _... I just -"

Derek huffed and kissed Stiles silent. When he was certain his mate's ability to talk was absent, he nipped at Stiles' chin and tried again.

"You smell like the earth to me, Stiles ... it's ... very grounding for me," Derek fixed Stiles with a sharp look to warn off the joke he could see behind Stiles' eyes. "When I shift and run ... I can smell the leaves under my feet, the rock, the dirt, the grass ... I smell everything ... it's clean and good and ... calming." Derek dropped his eyes. "It's always been my favorite scent."

Stiles remained silent. Derek looked up, expecting his mate to be regarding him with a look of amusement, but instead there was only heat. "You smell like cinnamon and ... leather to me," Stiles admitted softly.

Derek's mouth quirked up. "You can smell me?" He nuzzled along Stiles' throat again.

"Ye-yes ... oh man that feels good ... "

Derek made a curious sound and brushed his lips over Stiles' forehead. "Remember that scent, Stiles ... it's the only one I _ever _want on you."

Stiles nodded distractedly and then every thought he had went out of his head when Derek's mouth found the join between his neck and shoulder. The suction he created felt so good it blanked Stiles' mind. He couldn't feel the cold air or the hard rock beneath himself ... all he knew was Derek's scent and Derek's mouth and ... oh god ... Derek's voice saying the hottest things.

"_Nobody_ gets to taste this ... taste you ... they touch you and I will _tear their throat out _... you're _mine _Stiles ... _mine _..."

Derek gave a very possessive, triumphant snarl when Stiles ... completely lost in sensation ... murmured, " ... yours ... all yours ... Derek ... please ..." His pupils were blown wide and he was trembling with anticipation and arousal. Derek was silently grateful for the bond between them, otherwise he wouldn't be able to drive Stiles to the edge so easily. It wasn't a true claiming, but it would do for now. Derek only wanted to cement who he was in Stiles' mind. The rest would come later.

Derek leaned back in and said in a soft, barely present whisper, "Come for me, Stiles." He enjoyed the scream that tore its way out of his mate's throat.


	11. Chapter 11

Blood. Derek rubbed his fingers together, smearing them with blood he knew came from a werewolf. The alpha. He looked around, nostrils flaring and ears straining. A shadow moving caught his attention and he saw it – the alpha. Its form was curved and twisted ... no hint of the human within. Derek watched it gain a rooftop and then he was after it. It had been a long time since he'd given chase like this ... his body reveled in being able to stretch and move. Scaling a wall, Derek ran across the sloped roof of one of the many warehouses in this district. He was so intent on the alpha, he missed the other scent that was nearby.

Derek leapt out over a gap between two buildings. It was an easy jump, he should have cleared it. Halfway through his leap, a gunshot rang out and a lightning bolt of agony tore through his left arm, radiating throughout his entire body. He plummeted to the top of a trailer and then to the ground below, hitting both hard.

Lying on the cement, Derek gasped in pain. He tried to push himself upright but his arm couldn't support his weight. He rolled over with a hiss and looked down at the blood soaked sleeve. Pulling it up, he exposed the wound. It released an odd blue vapor and he knew something was very, very wrong.

* * *

Across Beacon Hills, Stiles awoke with a start and the faint echo of a gunshot in his dream. His left arm hurt horribly. Turning on his bedside light, Stiles looked frantically for any injury but found nothing. The pain gradually faded, leaving Stiles convinced he'd simply had too vivid of a nightmare. It was odd that it involved people with assault rifles. Turning the light off, Stiles fell back into the warmth of his bed and was asleep again in minutes.

* * *

Stiles sat behind Scott in class and doodled lazily on his notebook. Every time he found himself with a free moment, his brain seemed to automatically shift into _what did I get myself into _mode. Derek Hale, the werewolf was his mate. Derek Hale, the _bastard_ was his mate. Correction ... almost-mate. They hadn't done the deed yet so it wasn't final according to Derek. Stiles sighed. According to Derek. According to Derek, they were going to have to wait two years thanks to sense of werewolf honor. And to make things even _more _enjoyable, Derek had threatened to eviscerate anyone showing interest in Stiles. So ... mated but keeping it secret and doing nothing about it for two years. Awesome.

After quite possibly the most awesome orgasm in the history of sexual climax, Derek had taken Stiles home, told him he couldn't tell Scott, _licked _him – what the hell - and left. Left him sticky, slobbered on, confused and alone. Since then, Stiles hadn't gotten a text, a call, an email nor were any of his attempts at communication returned. He felt used and abandoned like a chick in a soap opera.

Not telling Scott had been interesting – since Scott's werewolf nose had immediately picked up on Derek's scent despite the thirty minute shower Stiles had taken the next day. Stiles had tap-danced around exactly what he and Derek had discussed and he was pretty positive that Scott did not believe a word out of his mouth. Since Stiles didn't want to be responsible for Scott's innards being exposed to the light, he was stubborn about not going into detail until Scott finally relented. Stiles made sure he wore shirts that covered the curve of his neck and shoulder. Yet one more thing he did not want to have to explain to his best friend.

Learning he was the mate of a werewolf and said werewolf was freakin' HOT should have been an awesome thing. Derek Hale had managed to turn it into one of the worst events in his life. Awesome.

Stiles registered that Scott was talking to him. He replayed the conversation quickly and shrugged.

"I don't know, dude ... Derek definitely isn't the alpha and not the one who bit you. So ... who do you think it is?" Stiles whispered.

"I don't know," Scott replied.

"Maybe the alpha killed the bus driver?" Stiles offered.

"I don't know," Scott said again.

Stiles sat back with a sigh. He hated Derek Hale. Stiles' loyalty to Scott had been formed over _years _of friendship. Yet here he sat, not telling his best friend about one of the most incredible things to happen in his short life ... something that might make Scott not feel so _alone _in all this madness. And what did he owe Derek? Nothing. He hadn't asked for this. He hadn't even _liked _guys before running into Derek Hale in the freaking _woods. _Now, thank you very much, Derek Hale reigned front and center during "Stiles Time". He'd tried to conjure up Lydia more than once only to remember the feel of Derek's mouth on his ... the feel of that hard body pushing him down on the ledge ... Stiles blinked and shifted uncomfortably. The memory of their last 'encounter' surged forward. With a few very hotly spoken words and a few kisses, Derek Hale had made him come without ever touching his cock. Who knew that was even possible? At the time, Derek had said it was silly for him to feel humiliated ... he was sixteen with a hair trigger. Stiles figured Derek ought to remember being sixteen so he'd bought it. Now he realized he'd been played like a piano and come out of the gate like ... well, sadly, like the virgin he was. Yes, he _definitely _hated Derek Hale.

A random thought intruded on his remembering and he leaned forward to whisper at Scott. "Hey do you think Allison's dad knows about -"

"_I don't know!"_ Scott snapped loudly.

Stiles pulled back and clamped his mouth shut. Obviously today was one of those days when Stiles' natural curiosity was not going to be taken well. He smiled wanly at the teacher who handed his test back. An "A" ... it was ironic that even though he couldn't sit still to save his life and had the attention span of a flea sometimes, Stiles was capable of absorbing and understanding large amounts of information. His brain always wanted to know _why_ and _how_. If he could get the rest of himself under control, Stiles figured he'd be halfway to a normal person.

Looking over Scott's shoulder, he winced when he saw the "D-".

"Dude, you need to study more," Stiles teased.

Scott flipped over his test irritably. Stiles rolled his eyes. "That was a _joke_." Scott's body language screamed how unhappy he was at the moment. "Scott, it's one test ... you're gonna make it up. Do you want help studying?"

Scott shook his head. "No ... I'm studying with Allison after school today."

Stiles raised his eyebrows. "That's _m'boy_!"

Scott sighed. "We're just studying."

"Uh ... no you're _not_!" Stiles protested. "Not if I'm forced to live vicariously through you. If you go to her house today and squander that colossal opportunity? I swear to God I'll have you neutered!"

"Ok!" Scott said in exasperation. "Just ... stop with the questions."

"Done! No more questions." Stiles said triumphantly. "No more talk about the alpha. Or Derek. Especially Derek. Who still scares me."

Scott snorted and Stiles sat back in his seat. Scare? No. Irritate the fucking hell out of? Yes. At first maybe he had been afraid of Derek. The night on the ledge had made him seriously reconsider and he'd been flirting with ideas of attraction and deep feelings. Now ... now he felt left behind and judged unworthy. Again ... awesome.

* * *

Derek walked slowly and deliberately down the school hallway. Every nerve in his body was screaming and he felt weaker than he ever had in his life. Someone bumped into his injured arm, causing waves of nauseous pain to radiate into the rest of his body. Derek had to find either Scott or Stiles. Preferably his mate, but at this point he wasn't going to be particular. He took another step and then his nose twitched. He could scent Scott strongly on someone nearby. He looked up and zeroed in on the person immediately. The captain of the lacrosse team ... what was his name ... Jackson. Derek made his way over to him.

"Where's Scott McCall?" Derek asked with no preamble.

The teen looked at Derek with disdain. "Why should I tell you?"

"Because I asked you politely," Derek said. "And I only do that _once_."

Jackson sneered. "Ok, tough guy ... how about I tell you where he is if you tell me what you're selling him?" Derek blinked, confused. "Is it ... uh, Dynaball? HGH?"

Derek's hazy brain supplied the information. "You think I'm selling him steroids."

"No, Girl Scout cookies ... what the hell do you think I'm talking about?" The teen said sarcastically. "Oh and by the way? What ever it is ... I'd stop sampling the merchandise. You look _wrecked_."

Derek glanced down. He could feel blood dripping slowly down his arm. Wrecked did not even begin to describe how he felt. He sighed, his patience done.

"I'll find him myself," Derek said tiredly. He moved past the teen.

"No ... we're not done here," Jackson said, grabbing Derek's arm.

The sudden pain triggered the wolf who reacted viciously. Derek slammed the boy into the lockers, his hand on the back of Jackson's neck. It wasn't until he saw how much pain the kid was in that he realized his claws had pierced skin. He withdrew them and stumbled off down the hallway, leaving the young man behind, hurting and confused.

Derek staggered through the hallways and finally found a corner out of the way to try and regain control of himself. The wolf was just below the surface of his mind ... instinct was driving him to find help ... to find a place to hide, to heal. He knew if he was confronted again, he would definitely lash out like any wounded animal would. The myriad sounds of a high school clamored against his consciousness. Chalk on a chalkboard. Fingers tapping on a phone. Music from a headset. It overlapped and flooded his mind with so much painful input he felt like he was losing his mind. Then a familiar scent hit him and it was a momentary balm. Stiles.

The calm was shattered when the bell rang overhead. With a growl, he pushed away from the wall and followed the trail of his mate. He had to find Stiles.

* * *

Stiles walked to the parking lot where his Jeep sat after the bell rang. It was routine .. he could do it in his sleep. Right now, however, he felt like he was being watched. Derek? Stiles glanced around and saw nothing. He wrote it off as wishful thinking. He didn't _want _to want Derek ... he just did. He couldn't stop thinking about the tall dark-haired man and his stupid scent. Leather and cinnamon ... right. And Stiles' scent just happened to be his favorite? Right again. Whatever. If he never saw the jerk again it would be too soon. By the time he'd reached his Jeep, Stiles was thoroughly blue and unhappy. He pulled out of the parking space and headed toward the lot exit.

Derek stumbled out of the building. His arm was on fire and he could feel the _wrongness _beginning to spread. Feverish, Derek lifted his head and scented the air. He was beginning to lose hope ... and consciousness ... when he caught the faintest whiff of warmth. Stiles. Weakened by his injury, Derek did not even try to resist his wolf's instinct ... he went toward his mate. Hand held out, Derek stepped in front of Stiles' jeep, praying the young man was paying enough attention to stop. The world spun for a moment and then Derek couldn't stand any longer.

* * *

Stiles' attention was focused on the road ahead when suddenly the last person he'd expected to see was standing directly in front of his grill. Stiles slammed on his brakes.

"Oh my God!" Stiles cried out.

Scott heard the horns honking from the direction of the parking lot and he saw Stiles' Jeep sitting at the front of the line. He frowned. What was his friend doing? Then his eyes tracked in front of the hood and Scott felt the blood drain out of his face.

"Oh no no no no... not _here _!" Scott pleaded, running over to the Jeep.

Stiles glared at the man standing in front of his vehicle and then he registered how pale Derek looked. Before he could truly process that, Derek crumpled to the ground. Stiles sat stunned until he heard Scott's voice. Then he was out of his Jeep moving to stand beside his friend. Scott fell to his knees beside Derek. "What are you doing here?!"

"I was shot," Derek gasped.

"He's not looking so good, dude," Stiles supplied helpfully. He kept his voice flat. He wasn't going to give Derek Hale any ammo to use against him later.

"Why aren't you healing?!" Scott asked, frantic.

"I can't ... it was ... it was a different kind of bullet," Derek said weakly.

"Like a silver bullet?" Stiles chirped, eagerly.

"_No_, you idiot!" Derek barked.

Stiles' face went still. Idiot. Yep, that was a pretty accurate description of how he felt right now. Idiot Stiles. He should have a fucking tattoo put on his forehead.

Scott, however, seemed to have a revelation. "That's what she meant when she said you had 48 hours."

"What ... ? Who said that?" Derek asked.

"The one who shot you," Scott explained.

Derek suddenly convulsed and his eyes shimmered blue. He growled and Scott could just make out the fangs beginning to appear. His eyes widened.

"What are you doing! Stop that!"

Stiles took an aborted step toward Derek when the werewolf jerked again. Despite everything, seeing Derek hurt on the ground was causing a deep ache to grow in his chest.

"Scott ... we gotta get him out of here," Stiles muttered, waving at the people in the vehicles behind his Jeep.

Scott nodded and helped Derek stand and stumble over to Stiles' passenger side. Derek groaned and looked at Scott.

"You've got to find out what type of bullet she used," he gasped.

"How am I supposed to do that?!" Scott protested.

"She's an Argent, Scott ... she's one of them," Derek said.

"Why should I help you?" Scott asked.

"Because you need me," Derek replied.

Stiles snorted and walked around to the driver's side. Needed. Yeah ... like needing Derek Hale was a _good_ thing.

"Fine," Scott said finally. "I'll try. Stiles get him out of here."

Stiles threw his Jeep into drive while growling at Scott "You do _not_ know how big you owe me for this."


	12. Chapter 12

Stiles kept his attention on the road while Derek pulled off his jacket. He glanced down at his mobile to see Scott's return message.

**[Need more time]**

_Yeah, I bet,_ Stiles thought. Out loud he barked, "Hey, try not to bleed out on my seats, ok? We're almost there."

Derek blinked. "Almost where?"

"Your _house_?" Stiles said tersely.

"What? No ... no you can't take me there," Derek said.

Stiles' face went incredulous. "I can't take you to your own _house_?"

Derek shook his head and looked at Stiles like he should obviously know this. "Not when I can't protect myself."

Stiles grit his teeth and pulled the Jeep over to the curb. He was done being treated like a moron. Obviously he _was_ a moron since he'd fallen for Derek's mate act ... _twice_ ... but that didn't mean he wanted to be titled. He turned and faced Derek.

"What happens if Scott doesn't find your little magic bullet? Hmm?" Stiles heard the sudden pain in his own voice and had no idea where it came from. "Are you dying?"

Derek shook his head. "Not yet. I have a last resort."

"What do you mean? _What _last resort?!" Stiles cried.

Derek pulled back his sleeve, revealing the bleeding, weeping wound on his forearm. Stiles recoiled.

"Oh my Lord ... _what is that_?" Stiles groaned. "Is that contagious? Ugh ... you know what ... you should probably just get out ..."

Derek was overwhelmed by Stiles' scent. It was equal parts anger, shame, and fear ... the fear was for Derek. The anger was at Derek. The shame ... the werewolf felt a true unhappiness at this ... the shame was because of Derek. He sighed. Stiles, whether he wanted to or not, cared what happened to him. It had been a long time since he'd had that. And he'd avoided the teen since the night on the ledge because he was terrified to want ... to _need_ someone that badly again.

Of course, now, instead of explaining, he had to force himself to be blunt so that Stiles would do what needed to be done instead of freaking out.

"Start the car," Derek ordered. "Now."

"Yeah, I don't think you should be barking orders with the way you look," Stiles retorted angrily. "In fact, I think if I wanted to, I could probably drag your little werewolf ass out into the middle of the road and leave you for dead."

Derek held Stiles' gaze. His eyes flashed blue as his wolf reacted to the threat – even from his mate it was dangerous. "Start the car. Or I'll tear your throat out. With my teeth."

Stiles stared back at Derek. He could see the predator that lurked within the man and suddenly he did not feel the bravado of a moment ago. He swallowed hard and finally turned away to start the Jeep up again.

"You know I hate you, right?" Stiles said as he pulled back out into traffic.

"Yes," Derek said, looking out the window.

"Good, as long as we understand each other."

Derek closed his eyes against the pain of Stiles' scent and voice.

_Stiles ... forgive me. Again._

* * *

Night had fallen and Stiles had no idea what to do. His emotions were at war within him ... he wanted to make the pain radiating off Derek stop. He also wanted to throttle the man for making him feel so worthless.

_As if it wasn't busy enough in my head?_ Stiles thought morosely.

"Stiles ... relax," Derek said, trying to push calm toward the teen.

Stiles rounded on him. "You don't get to tell me how to feel any more, Derek! Just keep your little Jedi mind trick to yourself ... I'm fine!"

"You sound it," Derek said softly.

"Yeah? Really? Gonna go there?" Stiles barked.

Derek looked over at his mate. His eyes flashed blue but there was no animosity behind them. "I didn't mean ..."

"Didn't mean _what_, Derek? Didn't mean to lie to me about the mate thing ... _again_? Didn't mean to jack me off and leave me thinking you gave a damn? Didn't what, Derek ... cause I'd really like to know!" Stiles yelled.

"Nevermind."

Stiles nearly threw his phone through the windshield. Instead, he thumbed over and called Scott. This time, his friend answered.

"What am I supposed to do with him?"

"Take him somewhere ... anywhere ..."

"And by the way ... he's starting to smell," Stiles complained.

"Like ... like what?!" Scott asked, frantically.

"Like _death_," Stiles hissed over the phone.

In reality, Stiles could tell that Derek smelled _wrong_ and it was really starting to bother him. But not in an annoyed way ... in a please don't be dying way. The leather and cinnamon scent was fading and Stiles did not think he could take it if Derek died.

"Ok," Scott said. "Take him to the animal clinic."

"Uh, what about your boss?" Stiles asked.

"He's gone by now," Scott promised. "There's a spare key in the box behind the dumpster."

Stiles sighed and handed the phone to Derek.

"Look, if you don't find it, then I'm dead." Derek muttered.

Scott groaned. "I'm starting to think that might not be such a bad thing."

Derek ignored the dig. "Think about this Scott ... the alpha calls you out against your will ... he's going to do it again. Next time, you either kill with him or you get killed. So if you want to stay alive, then you need me. Find the bullet."

* * *

Stiles raised the door to the back entrance of the animal clinic. Derek stumbled inside and slumped down on a stack of dog food. Stiles winced at the werewolf's visage. It was pale and slack. A curl of anxiety began to form in Stiles' gut.

_'If you don't find the bullet, I'm dead.'_

Stiles did not know if he could endure that no matter how angry he was with the man. He pulled his phone out when it vibrated against his thigh. He turned to Derek with a frown.

"Does 'Nordic blue monkshood' mean anything to you?"

"It's a rare form of wolfsbane. He's gotta bring me the bullet." Derek said.

"Why?" Stiles asked.

Derek met his mate's eyes. "Because I'm going to die without it."

Stiles gaped at him. "Die? As in expire? Cease to exist?"

"Stiles ..."

"No! Damn it, Derek, just answer me ... are you serious? Can this ... whatever it is ... kill you?" Stiles snapped.

Derek looked up at the teen. "It _is_ killing me, Stiles."

Stiles felt his legs shake beneath him, but then he was opening the office door and helping Derek through it. He turned on the light as Derek shuffled over to the exam table. When he turned, Derek was removing his shirt. Stiles swallowed. Hard.

"Oh dear God in heaven ..." Stiles muttered.

Derek looked up at him. "Wh-what?"

"Nothing ... nothing ... uh ... you know ... um, that doesn't look like anything some Echinacea and a good night's sleep couldn't take care of ..." Stiles stammered, staring at the wound on Derek's arm.

Derek looked at him, his eyes glowing blue. "When the infection reaches my heart, it'll kill me."

"Positivity just isn't in your vocabulary, is it?" Stiles snapped.

"Last resort if he doesn't get back in time with the bullet," Derek said, digging through a nearby drawer. He held up a saw. "You're going to cut off my arm."

"What?!" Stiles yelped. "Derek, I can't ... oh god I can't do that ... what if you bleed to death?"

Derek was busy tying off a tourniquet. "It'll heal if it works."

Stiles blanched. "I don't know if I can do this ..."

"Why not?!" Derek barked.

"Well because of the cutting of the flesh, the sawing of the bone and especially ... the blood!"

Derek looked up at Stiles, exasperated. "Seriously, how are you my mate? Do you honestly faint at the sight of blood?"

Stiles face went still. "No ... but I might at the sight of a _chopped off arm!"_

Derek growled. "Fine. Either you cut off my arm or I cut off your head!"

Stiles glared at him. "You ... are an asshole. Go ahead ... threaten me all you want ... I'm not - "

Derek's eyes flashed into their wolf aspect and he was reaching across the table and fisting the front of Stiles' t-shirt. Dragging Stiles close to him, he snarled, fangs emerging. Stiles whimpered and ducked his head, making Derek release him abruptly. He barely heard his mate's voice whispering. "Oh my god, alright, ok ... sold, I'll do it ... I'll do it ..."

Derek inhaled Stiles scent and shuddered. "Stiles ... I'm sorry ... I didn't - " Then he leaned over the edge of the table and threw up. Black blood splattered on the floor making Stiles grimace and bile rise up in his throat.

"Oh holy God, what the hell is that?!" Stiles whined.

Derek groaned, leaning over the edge of the exam table. "It's my body, trying to heal itself."

Stiles shook his head. "Well it's not doing a very good job of it."

"Now ... you have to do it now," Derek gasped.

"Derek ... I don't know if I can ..."

"Do it!" Derek's roar caused Stiles to jerk back from him, eyes wide.

Derek was reaching for Stiles but this time it wasn't in anger. "Stiles ... _please_ ..."

Their eyes met and Stiles nodded mutely. He picked up the saw, grimaced and whimpered.

"It's ok ..." Derek whispered so softly, Stiles almost didn't hear him.

"Here we go ..." Stiles said.

"Stiles?"

"Scott?"

The voice was questioning and familiar. Stiles froze with the saw blade resting against Derek's arm. Scott ran in only to stop short at the scene before him.

"What the hell are you doing?!"

Stiles sagged in relief. "Oh, Scott buddy you just prevented a lifetime of nightmares."

Derek groaned from the table. "Did you get it?"

Scott dug in his pocket and brought out a large bullet. He handed it to Derek who blinked at it owlishly.

"What are you going to do with it?" Stiles asked.

Derek looked at Stiles and then back at the bullet. "I'm going to ... going to ..."

His voice faded and Derek was suddenly falling. The bullet bounced away to a drain in the corner of the room. Scott dove after it while Stiles ran to Derek's prone form. Something inside him was hurting ... like a muscle being pulled too hard. Stiles gulped in air and framed Derek's face with his hands. The roaring in his ears made it impossible to focus on anything else but the unconscious man in front of him. Their brief relationship flew through Stiles mind. He inhaled deeply, searching for a scent that suddenly wasn't there anymore.

"Derek? Derek!?" Stiles pleaded. He smacked Derek's cheek but there was no response. "Scott, what the hell are we gonna do?"

"I don't know!" Scott said, struggling to reach the bullet.

"He's not waking up!" Stiles yelled. He looked back at Derek, hearing his own words. "He's not waking up ... no no no no ..."

Stiles shook Derek's shoulders and felt the boneless movement of his body.

"Oh no you don't ... you don't get to back out of this now ... fuck ..." Stiles whimpered. He leaned in close to Derek. "Please ... don't do this ... please don't go ... I'm sorry ... I forgive you ... I don't care ... just Please. Don't. Go."

With that, Stiles pulled back and crashed his fist into Derek's jaw. He cried out in pain just as Derek jerked back to consciousness. Derek looked around wildly and then they were helping him to stand. Scott had retrieved the bullet and Derek fumbled it out of his grasp. Stiles shook his hand painfully as Derek tore the bullet open with his teeth and dumped out the herb. Pulling out a lighter, Derek set the fragments on fire, releasing a curl of blue smoke. He scooped up the ashes, then paused to look at Stiles.

"Did you mean it? Do you forgive me?"

Stiles looked back into the green eyes he couldn't avoid any longer. "Yes, you stupid wolf."

Derek pressed the ash into his wound. His harsh scream of pain was unnerving to Scott but suddenly he realized Stiles was shaking with tears falling down his face.

"Stiles ...?"

Derek fell against Stiles who fell to the floor with Derek pressed against him. The werewolf's body bowed and arched in agony. Stiles whimpered softly. "Come on ... come on ... "

Derek screamed and his wolf echoed beneath the cry. Stiles watched as the infection retreated and disappeared. There wasn't even a scar from the original wound. Derek's body was healed. Stiles was ecstatic. He even did a fist-pump.

"That was ... _awesome_! Yes!"

Scott regarded his friend like he'd lost his mind but then something happened that Scott never expected. Ever.

Stiles hadn't moved from where he sat on the floor with Derek beside him. "Are you ok?"

Derek didn't know who asked, he was past caring. He looked at Stiles and found himself caught in the amber gaze again ... this time he didn't move or turn away. "Except for the agonizing pain ... I'm just perfect."

Stiles swallowed hard, still shaking. Derek pulled off the tourniquet and slid his hand up to press against Stiles' cheek. Stiles felt tears again but he couldn't bring himself to care. Derek's thumb gently brushed them away before he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Stiles' cheekbone. "It's ok. I'm ok."

Stiles shook his head and pulled away. "You nearly died ... I thought you _were_ dead ...you would have been dead and I would have thought you hated me."

Derek stood and helped Stiles to stand as well. He looked down at his mate and shook his head. "I never hated you Stiles ... and you brought me back."

Stiles stepped back, but Derek was done with worrying about who was watching. He pulled Stiles into a kiss. Stiles whimpered again but somehow the world sort of melted gently licked against Stiles' lips and Stiles found himself letting Derek's tongue begin a slow circuit of his mouth. Stiles would have been willing to stay like that forever – his arms hung uselessly at his sides. Derek gripped his shoulders, holding him in place. Suddenly, Scott cleared his throat.

"Uh ... Stiles?"

Stiles blinked dazedly when Derek pulled back. He looked over at Scott as though seeing him for the first time. "Scott! Yeah ... uh, I'm ... uh, I've been meaning to -"

Derek nuzzled against Stiles temple to silence him before turning to face Scott. "It's a long story but Stiles is my mate."

"Mate?!" Scott gaped at his friend who blushed. "Like ... married?!"

"No, not ..." Stiles began, but then he looked at Derek who sighed.

"I'll explain later, Scott. Right now, you and I have a visit to make," Derek said.

"What? What visit?"

"You need to know exactly who your girlfriend's family is and what they're capable of," Derek replied. He looked at Stiles. "Go home, Stiles. We'll talk later."

Stiles frowned but before he could say anything, Derek leaned in a pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "I _promise_ ... we'll talk about this later."


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: My readers are awesome. For anyone interested, there is a Spanish translation being posted on AO3. Right now only one chapter is up, but more should be following. **

* * *

Stiles sat in his father's squad car, digging in a paper sack for his dinner. It wasn't often he got to spend time with his dad this way so he was making the best of it. His father, however, wasn't cooperating much by demanding his curly fries which Stiles denied him.

John Stilinski snorted at his son's refusal. "I carry a lethal weapon. If I want the curly fries, I will _have_ the curly fries."

Stiles regarded his father steadily. "If you think getting rid of contractions in all your sentences makes your argument any more legitimate ... you _are _wrong."

John looked at his son. The boy exasperated him and amazed him ... usually in the same breath. He sighed and Stiles drank his Coke triumphantly.

In reality, Stiles was nothing but a bundle of nerves. He knew Derek was nearby thanks to the newly formed bond between them but the werewolf was giving him the silent treatment again. He'd texted and tried leaving his window open to no avail. It was beginning to depress him. Derek had promised they would talk. Stiles wondered if he was going to be out of high school before that happened.

The radio squawked and Stiles reached for the mic immediately. His father smacked his hand and he pulled it back reluctantly. The dispatcher reported a possible murder at a nearby video store. Stiles was on the edge of his seat the entire drive. If Derek and Scott were going to disappear for no particular reason to do 'wolf-stuff', then Stiles was going to find his entertainment any way he could.

At the scene an ambulance sat with a stunned looking Lydia on the back bumper and a slightly hysterical Jackson Whittemore pacing in front of her. Stiles opened the door and listened. He felt his temper rising when Jackson referred to his dad as a "minimum wage rent-a-cop". He'd never really liked Jackson and the feeling was probably mutual ten times over for the lacrosse captain. Then something else caught Stiles' attention.

"Whoa! Is that a dead body?"

John gave his son a familiar pained and exasperated expression. Stiles grimaced and began to sit down again in the squad car. He glanced up and was shocked to see Derek and Scott looking down at the scene.

"Derek?" Stiles said softly, knowing the werewolf could hear him.

Derek's eyes immediately tracked to Stiles. Scott looked back at him. "You still haven't talked to him, have you?"

Derek sighed. "Not the priority right now, Scott. Are you beginning to understand this?" Derek indicated the crowd below and the body being loaded into the medical examiner's van.

"I get that he's killing people, but I don't get why," Scott said. "I mean, this isn't standard practice, right? We don't go out in the middle of the night murdering people, do we?"

"No. We're predators. We don't have to be killers," Derek replied.

"Ok ... so why is _he _a killer?"

Derek looked over the scene again and at Stiles, still watching him. He gently brushed against the link they shared. He knew he had to talk to his mate and soon. Derek turned and loped off the roof followed by Scott. Stiles slumped back into the front seat of the squad car. If his father noticed that Stiles was unusually silent on the ride home, he didn't mention it, merely enjoyed it.

* * *

Back at Derek's house, Scott protested. "You know, I have a life ..."

"No you don't," Derek countered.

"Yes, I do!" Scott exclaimed. "I don't care what you say about him making me his pet ..."

"Part of his _pack_," Derek corrected.

"Whatever," Scott conceded. "I have homework to do. I have to go to a parent-teacher conference tomorrow because I'm failing chemistry."

Derek sighed inwardly. He again wondered which deity hated him so much that he'd been saddled with a teenager for a pack-mate.

"Do you want to do homework or do you want to _not die_?" Derek snapped. "You have less than a week till the full moon. You don't kill with him, he kills you!"

"Seriously? Who made up these rules?"

Derek bristled at Scott's dismissal of his culture. "It's a right of passage into his pack."

"You know what else is a right of passage? Graduating from high school! And you don't have to kill anyone to do it!" Scott yelled. "Why don't you just sniff him out?"

Derek rolled his eyes. "Because his human scent could be completely different! You have a connection with him ... a link you can't understand. If I can _teach_ you to control your abilities, you can find him."

Scott considered. "So, if I help you, you can stop him?"

"Not alone," Derek admitted. "We're stronger in numbers ... the Pack makes the individual more powerful."

"How am I supposed to fight if I have no idea what I'm doing?!"

Derek wanted to howl his frustration. Did this kid listen to nothing? "Because I'm going to _teach_ you! Do you remember what happened that first night you were shot in the arm? Right after you were hit?"

Scott nodded. "I changed back."

"And when he hit you with his car ... same thing, right?" Derek said, coming down the stairs. Scott nodded again. "What's the common denominator?"

Scott looked blankly at Derek. The older werewolf took Scott's arm and bent it abruptly at an angle it was not meant to go. The boy yelped in pain.

"What the hell are you doing?!"

"It'll heal," Derek assured him calmly.

Scott glared at him. "It still _hurt_!"

"And that's what keeps you human," Derek said.

Scott flexed his arm as the bones knit together. He nodded, impressed at the fast healing. Scott glared at him again before Derek turned and walked up the stairs.

"Derek," Scott called.

Derek turned. Scott continued to rub his arm. "I'm not the only one with a connection that he can't understand." Derek's eyes narrowed. "You're not being fair to Stiles ... he deserves better than this ... this man of mystery thing you have going."

"You don't know what you're talking about, Scott," Derek warned.

"No? Well I know this – my best friend ... the one I've known for most of my _life_? He used to be a clown and a goof and the one person I could count on to make me feel better no matter what. Now he's quiet and confused and _hurting_ all the time," Scott said with an angry glare. "He doesn't get what noble thing you're trying to do by staying away from him! All he knows is that he feels about you like he's never felt about anyone but Lydia Martin and you're blowing him off just like she does."

"This is a little deeper than just a high school _crush_, Scott," Derek said irritably.

"Yeah? So act like it ... Stiles' has a big heart and when he falls, he falls hard. Lydia acting like he doesn't exist every time he makes a move is bad enough ... you do it to him and he'll never try again. With anybody. And I love the guy too much to let that happen," Scott declared.

Derek had come back down the stairs and was standing in front of Scott as the new beta all but challenged him. He held Scott's defiant gaze and then his mouth quirked. He thumped Scott in the chest.

"Now see? _That_? That's _pack_," Derek said. He turned to go back up the stairs and paused. He didn't look at Scott. "I'll talk to Stiles tonight, alright?"

Scott nodded and left. Derek sighed. Why was nothing ever simple?

* * *

Stiles lay in his bed, staring at the shadows on the ceiling. He'd crawled under the covers almost immediately after saying good-night to his dad. The tightness in his chest did not ease. He sighed and wiped irritably at his eyes. All this over a guy he barely knew and sure as hell didn't understand.

"I'm sorry, Stiles," Derek said from the window.

Stiles jerked upright with a yelp, knocking his lamp to the floor. Derek moved behind his bed when John Stilinski knocked on the door.

"Stiles? You alright?"

"Uh, yeah, dad ... muscle .. uh ... cramp," Stiles finished lamely.

John sighed and went back to his room. "I will never understand that boy."

Derek heard the door shut and sat on the edge of Stiles bed. The teenager remained where he was, uncertain of what to do.

"Stiles, I'm sorry ... I just ..."

Stiles waved his hand dismissively. "Derek, I don't really give a fuck. You come into my life, announce that you're my mate and then start this possessive claiming thing and then you go all silent and invisible on me." Stiles' shoulders slumped. "I can't do it anymore ... it hurts too much when I'm not with you and it _really_ hurts too much when you ignore me. If you don't want me, fine. I'll deal. Just ... just turn me loose."

"I can't do that, Stiles," Derek said softly. "You're my mate ... I can't walk away."

"You don't seem to have a problem with that when you get all 'conflicted'," Stiles accused.

Derek ran his hand over his face. "I know ... I _know_ ... fuck. Stiles, what you are to me is so hard to explain. I can't claim you and that's all I want to do. So I stay away."

"What? You want to _claim_ me?" Stiles asked, moving to sit on the other side of his bed.

Derek met the boy's eyes. His own reflected the light. "Yes, Stiles ... I want to fuck you into the mattress and when you're screaming my name I want to bury my fangs in your skin until I taste blood. _That's_ what I'm trying to avoid."

Stiles was shaking with sudden, hard arousal. "Dude ... you don't have to ... I mean, I want -"

Derek groaned. "Stiles, you don't know what you want. God why does this have to be so hard? Don't you get it? I claim you and that's it. No finishing high school and maybe getting that Lydia to notice you ... no going to college and finding a sweetheart there ... you'll be mine and that's it. I can't ... I _won't_ take that from you."

Stiles moved before Derek could stop him. The young man's lips crashed into his own and Derek moaned. Then he had Stiles pinned beneath him and was kissing him for all he was worth. The t-shirt Stiles had worn to bed was quickly tugged off and Derek's mouth began working its way down his mate's body. Stiles was biting his lip to keep from making any sounds but he was rapidly losing the ability for coherent thought. Then the lips were gone and he was left shaking and oddly bereft.

"De-Derek?"

The werewolf stood nearby with his forehead pressed against the wall as he fought down his wolf.

"Damn it, Stiles ... you can't – you can't _do_ that! I won't be able to control myself if you do," Derek whispered desperately.

"How is this different from what you did on that ledge? Derek ... I've _never_ come like that before ... granted all I've had is my hand for comparison, but -"

"Stiles, hush," Derek hissed. He was back, pressing Stiles down again and he had no intention of stopping this time.

Stiles writhed helplessly under Derek as his sleep pants joined his t-shirt and he was completely exposed to the werewolf. It was hot for some reason that Derek was still fully dressed ... for some reason he wanted to be the one taken ... not the one doing the taking. He instinctively arched his neck, exposing his throat to Derek and dragging a deep growl out of his mate. He felt the sharp fangs brush his windpipe and he whined softly. Derek pinned his arms above his head and then things shifted.

Stiles opened his eyes to find two wolf's eyes staring back at him. The Derek he knew wasn't present ... instead he was about to be taken by an animal ... or something less than human anyway. Fear slipped into his gut, overriding the arousal. "Derek?"

A growl answered him and like cold water, the lust was gone and the need to get free overwhelmed Stiles.

"Derek, please ... no ... wait ..."

Derek continued his brutal assault, nipping bruises into Stiles' body. Stiles whimpered and tried to pull away but he didn't have the strength. He was getting more and more afraid of exactly what was going to take him.

"Derek ... please ... please ... m-mate?"

At the word, Derek pulled back and blinked, cocking his head to one side as if curious. He shuddered and suddenly the wolf was gone and it was just the human again. He released Stiles' hands and looked miserably down at the marks he'd left on Stiles' torso. Stiles sat up quickly, jerking the blanket over his waist.

"Derek ... I -"

"No," Derek said hoarsely. "This is why I stay away, Stiles. Do you understand now? I can hurt you ... and that is the one thing I never want to do ... please understand. Please."

As much as it killed him to admit it ... Stiles now knew _exactly_ why Derek wouldn't come within ten feet of him if he could help it. It didn't make the situation any better.

"But it _hurts_ when I'm not with you," Stiles insisted.

"I know ... god, Stiles. I know. But if I can't stop ... you were so afraid just now ... how could I risk it?"

Stiles nodded unhappily. Again with the tears! He wiped angrily at his eyes. "Just go, Derek. I get it ... I'll try not to be such a needy bitch -"

Derek grabbed Stiles' chin and forced the boy to look at him. "Don't. Don't sell yourself short, Stiles. God, you don't have any idea how amazing you are ... I'm not doing this because I _want_ to, Stiles ... you're everything to me. _Everything_. I won't cheapen that and I _will not_ hurt you by losing control. Needy? Fuck that ... Stiles, I want you from the minute I wake up till I pass out from trying _not_ to want you."

"You ... do?"

Derek sighed. "_Yes_. Ever since I felt the blood call, all I've wanted is you. And when you turn 18, I swear there won't be a force on this planet that will keep me from taking you as my mate completely."

Stiles nodded slowly. "No way around that age limit?"

Derek chuckled darkly. "Not if I want to avoid your father filling my backside with buckshot."

"Buckshot? Seriously? This isn't some backwoods hick town, Derek," Stiles teased.

"I know, my mate, I know. But your father loves you and he'll do anything to keep you safe ... as a father should," Derek said.

Derek paused and moved back to Stiles' side. Taking the young man's hand, Derek shifted and his claws pierced the palm. Three diagonal cuts slashed Stiles' hand. He winced with the pain, but Derek eased that quickly. Stiles looked down at his hand then up at Derek.

"Those will scar ... and you'll always know who gave them to you. When I claim you, I'll give you a mark that will also scar. But it will be bigger and it will bond us together forever," Derek pressed his hand against Stiles' cheek. "I love you, Stiles. Please understand that ... and I'll try to be better about the communication thing, ok?"

"You better, you stupid wolf," Stiles said, enjoying the annoyed growl Derek gave him. "Because I don't even know you and I'm in love with you too."

Stiles kissed Derek again but pulled back before the heat could begin to build. Derek left and Stiles went to sleep after a long while of staring at his hand in the dark.

When he awoke the next morning, he found a can of his favorite soda sitting beside his phone. It was still very cold so Derek had only just left it. Stiles grinned. His best friend and boyfriend were both werewolves. How awesome was _that_?


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Thanks to everyone for your support ... I love and need the encouragement. You are all the best. *hugs***

* * *

Stiles kept his hand in a fist while highlighting his science book with the other. He could feel a slight twinge from the cuts on his palm, but they were already healing. Three thin lines of pink skin dotted his hand. It was hard to keep from grinning like a complete lunatic ... Stiles wanted to scream or yell or do cartwheels ... _something_ to release the unbelievable feeling he had inside. He could only compare it to how he felt around Lydia ... and it completely eclipsed _that_ feeling. He was in love and – wonder of wonders – that person loved him _back_. Sure, it was a little unconventional – what with Derek being a werewolf and all, but it was _real_. It wasn't the pseudo-relationship between himself and Lydia. Unrequited and probably completely unnoticed. Stiles smiled down at his book as he highlighted another paragraph. He suddenly realized that Harris was standing in front of him, waiting for a response to a question ... Stiles ran the dialogue back in his head. _Has anyone seen Scott McCall?_

Before Stiles could answer, the door opened and Jackson Whittemore walked slowly into the classroom. Stiles watched as the lacrosse captain eased onto his stool. Harris moved immediately to the side of his favored student.

"Jackson, if you need to leave early for _any_ reason ... you let me know," Harris said, hand resting on Jackson's shoulder.

Stiles rolled his eyes. He could have been bleeding out of the eyes and Harris would have handed him a detention if he'd tried to go get a band-aid. Still ... Jackson's late arrival made Stiles wonder where Lydia was. He hadn't seen her or felt her loud presence in the halls. Lydia was hard to miss and he'd had a built-in radar for her since childhood. He frowned and went back to highlighting his text. Harris' sarcastic voice cut through the silence as he walked back to the front of the room.

"Mr. Stilinski, try putting the highlighter down between paragraphs. It's chemistry, not a coloring book."

Stiles blew the cap to his highlighter straight up in the air before catching it on the fall. He really, _really _did not like Mr. Adrian R. Harris. The feeling was definitely mutual. Stiles noticed Jackson looking back at him. He felt a strange flutter in his stomach as the blue-green eyes glanced at him and then away.

_What the hell was that? _Stiles wondered.

Shrugging, Stiles looked at the back in front of him – Danny. Of course, he shared home room with Lydia. Perfect. Leaning forward, Stiles whispered softly.

"Danny ... can I ask you a question?"

Danny raised his head but did not look back at Stiles. "No."

"Well, I'm going to anyway," Stiles said. "Did Lydia show up in your home room today?"

"No."

"Can I ask you another question?"

Danny sighed. "The answer's still 'no'."

"Does anyone know what happened to her and Jackson last night?"

Danny looked distinctly uncomfortable. He shook his head slightly. "He ... wouldn't tell me."

Stiles blinked. He couldn't imagine _not_ telling Scott everything. Well ... almost everything. He _had _kept Derek a secret for a while. Great ... what other secrets were between them?

"But you're his best friend ..." Stiles nudged.

Danny shrugged. Stiles could tell that however Jackson felt, Danny was bothered by the silence from his friend. Still high on the events of the previous evening, Stiles decided to venture a question that had nothing to do with werewolves or bites or any supernatural weirdness.

"One more question ..."

"_What?"_ Danny snapped irritably.

"Do you find me attractive?"

Stiles leaned forward, straining to hear an answer when he over-balanced and upended his stool. Face red, he scrambled to reseat himself. He looked up to find Jackson staring at him. When the teen turned around, Stiles saw three slashes on his neck. He swallowed hard and looked down at the scars on his own palm. Slashes made when fingers tipped with claws broke blinked back stinging tears and looked down at the text in his book. The letters blurred as he looked between the page and his palm. All the joy of the morning evaporated like the pipe-dream it had been. He wondered if Derek enjoyed repeatedly proving just how gullible Stiles was ... Stiles felt a heavy stone settle in his chest again. He could almost see the sneering grin on the werewolf's face as he went to sleep knowing he'd managed to fool the idiot human. Again. Stiles winced as he remembered telling Derek he loved him. Love. How pathetic was he? Chemistry class passed in a fog of agony and humiliation.

* * *

Derek frowned at the distress he'd felt from Stiles today. He decided to visit the teen as soon as he ran a quick errand. Derek mused over his feelings as he made his way to the boys locker room. He'd felt oddly content this morning after leaving the soda in Stiles' room. His mate slept on, his scent calm for once.

Mate. The word was still strange to him on so many levels. A teenage boy had awakened one of the most basic needs for a wolf beyond pack ... the need to take a mate. Wolves mated for life and werewolves were no different. They didn't look at relationships the same way as humans ... at least not born-weres. For them, attraction went far deeper than simple physical appearance. It was a blending of looks, scent, and instinct. Not to say that plain sex wasn't a part of it – Derek had shared the bed of few willing females ... and males ... without the need for anything more. It was understood as a need for physical comfort and that was all. Humans were more difficult.

Stiles was young and still trying to make sense of his own emotions and needs. Coupled with the force that was a blood call, Derek knew they were both in for a bumpy ride even without the tension of the alpha problem. Still ... Derek wanted this more than he'd wanted anything in his life – well, _almost_ anything but the rest didn't bear examination. Explaining himself to Stiles had revealed something to Derek – he really _did_ love the kid and he was meant to be with him.

Bringing him the soda this morning had been the beginning of Derek's proper courtship ... small gifts left for Stiles to find. He already knew Stiles had been pleased with the soda. His mates pleasure gave him a strange warmth and it made him want to do more.

At the moment, however, Derek had a small issue to attend to – Jackson Whittemore. He vaguely remembered marking the teen when he had been poisoned the wolfs bane bullet. He could feel an odd attachment to Jackson that made him slightly uneasy. It was too similar to the pull he felt toward Stiles ... which made him resent it because what he shared with Stiles was unique and not to be sullied.

_It's your own fault, idiot, for losing your temper to a mere human_, Derek berated himself.

Stepping into the locker room, Derek waited until Jackson was the only person there and then he made his presence known. It amused him to see the look of fear cross the normally cocky and obnoxious boy's face.

"I do-don't know where Scott is," Jackson stammered, falling back against the lockers.

Derek grinned coldly. "I'm not here for Scott ... I'm here for you."

Jackson paled. "Why-why me? I-I didn't do anything!"

"You saw something ... didn't you?" Derek asked, slowly advancing on the teen. He could smell Jackson's fear growing.

"I didn't _see_ anything," Jackson insisted.

"What was it, hmm? An animal? Maybe a mountain lion?"

"I didn't see anything," Jackson said again. "I swear ... I'm not lying!"

Derek stepped directly in front of the young man, locking their gazes. "Then calm down and say it again."

"Say ... say what? That I'm not lying?" Jackson asked, confused.

Derek growled. God save him ... Stiles was about the only teenager he _didn't_ want to strangle. And Stiles had his moments.

"Tell me that you didn't see anything!" Derek explained tersely. "Slowly."

Jackson couldn't look away from the green-eyed predator's gaze. He swallowed and said shakily, "I. Didn't. See. Anything. I'm not lying."

Derek listened and Jackson's heartbeat stayed steady ... a little fast, but steady. He was telling the truth and was no use to Derek. He looked over the boy again.

"One more thing," Derek said, pulling Jackson's head forward by his hair.

Three slashes marked the tan skin on the back of the teen's neck. Derek could scent himself on the wounds and that was strangely ... arousing?

_Fuck ... my wolf thinks I marked him as my own!_ Derek thought dismally.

Releasing Jackson, he smirked. "You should really get that looked at. The sooner the better." He turned to leave when a thought occurred to him. He turned back and slammed Jackson back against the lockers. "By the way ... you _really_ need to reconsider your current hobby of tormenting Stiles. You're going to piss me off one of these days."

"Wh-what?"

"Don't play dumb, Jackson. He's _mine_ and I can be a real bastard about what's mine," Derek warned.

He walked off, enjoying the cold, bitter scent of terror that wafted off Jackson. He hoped Stiles enjoyed what he'd left him today. Tonight, he'd find out why his mate felt distressed all day.

* * *

Stiles hung up his phone, frustrated. No mystery where _Scott_ was ... Allison's parents would probably have a heart attack each if they knew where their little ray of sunshine spent her day. Lydia hadn't made it to school and when he'd passed Jackson in the hallway a few moments ago, the other boy had practically climbed into the nearest locker trying to get away from him. Stiles, however, was angry. At himself and at Derek. He stepped into Jackson's personal space – an act he _never_ would have considered a few weeks ago.

"You know what, Jackson? Take him. You two have fun ... I'm done being the chump in the middle," Stiles snarled.

The look that crossed Jackson's face was completely unexpected. White-faced, he began to babble at Stiles. "No no no no ... don't! He'll kill me ... I didn't do anything, I _swear_!"

"Oh and I guess you got the twins to these by _accident_?" Stiles sneered, holding his palm in Jackson's face.

The blue-green eyes darted to Stiles' scars and then back again. "My ... the marks on my neck? Dude, he nearly killed me the other day ... if he'd held on any tighter, he'd of broken my spine!"

Stiles frowned. Derek hadn't given Jackson the marks intentionally? He stepped away from Jackson and made a hasty retreat to his Jeep. He looked over at the passenger side where a single yellow leaf sat with a note.

_It matches your eyes. Tonight 10:30._

Stiles bit his lower lip. He looked in his rear view mirror and held up the leaf beside his eyes – the shades matched perfectly.

"Fucking werewolves ..."Stiles muttered.

* * *

Unable to shake the feeling that he was being played, Stiles made a decision. It was probably a bad one, but he was irritated enough to not care. He drove to Lydia's house and her mom willingly took him back to her daughter's bedroom. Stiles froze in the doorway. All his life he'd been in love with the goddess on the bed ... he'd dreamed of being in this room so many times. Now that he was here, he felt exactly nothing more than concern. The usual nerves and anxiousness were gone – he didn't care how Lydia reacted to him beyond letting him know if she was ok or not. Stiles knew then he was gone ... his hand itched and he looked down at it while Lydia's mother yapped at him about whatever was wrong with the girl. Derek. He suddenly wanted to be with Derek.

_First things first, _Stiles thought. _Make sure Lyds is ok and then find sourwolf._

"Lydia? There's a Stiles here to see you."

Lydia stared at her hand and muttered. "What the hell ... is a 'Stiles'?"

Stiles blinked. _This is who I've been chasing for half my life?_

Lydia's mother blushed. "She, um, took a little something to help her with her nerves."

Stiles nodded and the woman left. He looked at the bed and Lydia rolled over to regard him. Her eyes were dilated and she wore only a blue pajama short set. Stiles swallowed. He might be mated to a werewolf ... but he wasn't dead. Lydia was still gorgeous.

"What are you doing here?" Lydia asked.

"I came to see if you were alright," Stiles explained.

"Why?" Lydia patted the space beside her on the bed.

Stiles sat down. Of _course_ his most favored fantasies started coming true _after_ the big bad wolf marked him. "Um, because I was worried about you. How do you feel?"

Stiles froze as Lydia sat up and leaned close enough for her breath to waft across his mouth. "I feel ... _fantastic_."

Stiles swallowed and gripped the leg of his jeans as he fought down a very involuntary reaction to the girl of his dreams being this close to him. He smiled nervously and then saw the pill bottle on her nightstand. He frowned and his eyes widened as he read the label.

"Whoa!" Stiles muttered. He smiled mischievously and looked at Lydia. "Bet you can't say 'I saw Suzy sitting in a shoeshine shop' ten times fast."

Lydia regarded Stiles with an annoyed expression. She flipped her hair back and began confidently, "I saw Shoozy ... I shaw ... "

Stiles chuckled and put the pill bottle back. Lydia, however, had a dismal look on her face. Stiles realized something dark had surfaced. She whispered.

"I saw ..."

"Lydia ... what did you see?"

"Something ..."

Stiles frowned. "Something like ... a mountain lion?"

Lydia's face lit up in recognition. "A mountain lion!"

Another frown. "Are you _sure_ you saw a mountain lion or are you just saying that because that's what the police told you?"

"A mountain lion."

Stiles sighed. He grabbed a small stuffed giraffe and held it out for her to see. "What's this?"

Lydia regarded it seriously. "A mountain lion," she finally declared.

"Ok," Stiles said, rolling his eyes.

Lydia fell forward into his lap and Stiles froze. Yep ... just his luck. Lydia Martin face down in his lap and he had to have a boyfriend who'd gladly rip her throat out – with his teeth. Stiles groaned and levered her off his thigh.

"Um, I'm gonna go and let you get back to your PTSD or whatever ..." Stiles said.

"Stay." Lydia whimpered.

Stiles fell still. "Um ... me? You want me to stay?"

Lydia smiled at him and nodded. She framed his face in her very soft hands and Stiles found himself fighting the very real urge to kiss her. Where the hell was _this_ Lydia before he met Derek fucking Hale, resident werewolf? Stiles shifted uncomfortably.

"Please stay ... I want you to ... Jackson ..."

Cold water on his libido, Stiles sighed heavily. "Aaaand ... were done here."

Lydia passed out and Stiles looked at her wistfully. Why oh why were the gods so cruel? He looked over at a buzzing sound and picked up Lydia's phone. He pressed the wrong icon and ended up looking at her videos. And he froze. On the phone was a perfect freeze frame of what Lydia and Jackson had seen. Suddenly, Stiles didn't wonder why they were both traumatized.

* * *

Derek decided he needed to blow off a little energy before he went to see Stiles that night. Pulling off his shirt, Derek began a grueling workout. He pushed himself harder than usual, trying to push thoughts of the alpha from his mind. He tried to focus on Stiles but that led to an entirely _new_ reason to push his body into the area of pain. Pain was distracting. It kept his body from driving him to seek out his mate. Still, as he did push-ups, Derek found himself actually blushing as the thoughts the simple exercise brought into his head. He growled, irritated at himself.

_What am I? Sixteen?_ Derek groused mentally.

Suddenly, he froze. A sound and a scent hit him at the same time – hunters. Derek was moving before his brain told him something else ... one of the hunters was someone he never wanted to see again in his life. Unless she was bleeding out at his feet, that is.

* * *

The door slammed open and Derek heard the hunters walk in ... the men he didn't know, but the woman ... Kate Argent. Hell's greatest bitch angel incarnate. He wondered if Stiles would visit him in prison when he was sent up for an actual murder.

"No one's home," One of the men said.

"Oh, he's here," Kate said sweetly. "He's just not feeling particularly hospitable."

Derek fought not to see images of Kate in far less clothing. Painful memories of his weakness and foolishness rose up around him like the ghosts of his family. Derek felt the familiar ache of hopelessness filling his chest ... the feeling that he was worthless. A waste of air. Definitely not worth a true mate ... not worth Stiles. Derek closed his eyes and instinctively reached out to his bond with Stiles. He needed his mate. Young or not ... Stiles was strong. Far stronger than he gave himself credit for ... and Derek needed all the help he could get.

* * *

Stiles paced his room, talking into his mobile. "Hey ... it's me again. I found something and I don't know what to do, ok? So if you could turn your phone on that'd be great ... or else I'll kill you." Stiles sighed. "I'm too upset to come up with a witty description of _how_ I'm going to kill you, just know that I'm going to do it. Ok?"

Stiles threw his phone down on his bed in frustration. Scott since meeting Allison was almost as inscrutable as Derek. His mate. So-called mate. Stiles looked down at his hand. He wanted to believe Jackson ... wanted to believe that there was more between him and Derek ... that he wasn't just a fool kid in love with an older guy screwing with him for kicks. Stiles dropped into his desk chair and stared morosely at Lydia's phone. He wanted to talk to Scott ... or Derek. More so Derek. A knock on the door nearly sent him falling to the floor.

"Please tell me I'm going to hear good news at this parent-teacher conference thing tonight," John Stilinski asked hopefully.

Stiles smiled sheepishly. "Um ... that depends on your definition of good news."

"Straight A's without the behavioral issues?"

Stiles studied a bottle cap discarded on his desk. "You, uh, might want to rethink that definition."

"Enough said."

Stiles sighed as his father walked away. He felt useless and hopeless and every other dark emotion he fought to keep buried every fucking day.

"Any time, guys ... any time." Stiles muttered as he deleted the photo from Lydia's phone.

* * *

"Maybe he's out in back, burying a bone," The younger of the two male hunters joked.

Kate regarded the man disdainfully. "Really? A dog joke? We're goin' in there and that's the best you've got?"

Derek smirked from his hiding place. Kate always had possessed a brutal wit. What she said next, however, caught him completely off-guard.

"If you want to provoke him, say something like ... 'Too bad your sister bit it before she had her first litter.'"

Derek's eyes flashed blue as his anger flared. Kate's words hurt ... worse than he'd imagined they could. Grief rose inside him and he physically shook. Kate, however, was not done.

"Or maybe ... 'Too bad she howled like a _bitch _when we cut her in _half!'_"

* * *

Stiles had picked up his phone again when the surge of rage hit him. He doubled over, clutching at his head which rang with a werewolf's roar. He fell to his knees with a whimper of pain.

"D-d-derek?" Stiles gasped.

A spike pierced his brain and Stiles fell on his side, curling into a tight ball. Fear and rage blended together into a perfect knife edge that sliced away at Stiles' mind. He shuddered, unable to block out the assault. Then his room disappeared and he was in Derek's house, watching a man with a gun from a hidden vantage point. He didn't recognize the man but he felt nothing but anger toward him. Intruder. Killer. Hunter.

Stiles felt his fangs drop, heard the savage roar that tore out of his throat ... and then he was attacking the man. Tearing the rifle out of his hands, Stiles picked the man up and threw him into the far wall, watching with great satisfaction as he fell motionless to the floor. His sight was clearer than it ever had been ... his hearing so acute he thought he could hear the heartbeats of others.

Stiles did a quick crisscross leap between wall and stair banister and landed on a sideboard. Perched there, he looked at the two other hunters. Another man with a rifle and the queen bitch of the universe, Kate. It occurred to Stiles to wonder who the hell Kate was but he decided to ignore that for now. With a fierce animal growl, Stiles launched himself over the staircase. He grabbed onto the lintel of the entryway into the next room and with a powerful kick sent the hunter flying. He landed on his feet and ran his tongue over sharp teeth. Kate was the only one standing.

The woman was definitely good-looking with curves in all the right places. She was more of the sort he could imagine Derek with ... then it hit him. Derek _had_ been with her. Stiles faltered. She was beautiful now that he considered it ... Jackson was drop-dead gorgeous too ... and Stiles believed that Derek had chosen _him? _Thin, lanky, useless, worthless -

_STILES!_

Stiles froze. Why was he hearing Derek's voice in his head?

_You're not __in__ your head ... you're in __mine__! _Derek's voice snarled. _I don't have time to persuade you, Stiles ... believe me or get the hell out ..._

* * *

Stiles' eyes opened in shock and he found himself sitting in his bedroom on the floor. His head was pounding and he could taste something coppery in his mouth. Wiping a hand across his mouth, Stiles realized he'd had a major nosebleed. He groaned.

"What the fuck, Derek ... Derek? Oh fuck, Derek!" Stiles cried.

Jumping up, Stiles groaned as the room spun around him and he fell back to the floor. Grateful his father was already gone to the conferences, Stiles rose to his hands and knees and focused everything he could on Derek. Nothing. Crawling to his desk, Stiles shoved recklessly through the printouts and files there until he found the one on Derek. Pulling it open, he pulled out the picture paper-clipped in the front. A somber looking man stared at him and when he looked at the eyes, Stiles was suddenly back in Derek's house, writhing on the floorboards in a lot of pain.

_Oh god what did she do to you? _Stiles pleaded with his mate.

_St-stiles? You ... came b-back?_

_Derek, what did that bitch do to you? _Stiles felt nothing but anger toward the woman circling his mate with a long, wicked looking baton. His ... Derek's ... muscles felt like they'd all been tied in tight, agonizing knots. Stiles was finding it hard to stay apart but he tried. _What do I do? Derek ... what do you need me to do?_

Derek didn't respond and Stiles had to listen to Kate's horrible silken voice mocking him.

"Wow ... this one grew up in _all_ the right places," Kate teased. "I don't know whether to kill it ... or _lick it_."

"Get away from him, you _bitch_!" Stiles snarled.

Kate blinked at the strange echoing voice that emerged from Derek. She grinned broadly. "Oh honey ... is that ... did you find a _mate_? What's _your _name, bitch?"

_Stiles, NO!_

But Stiles was already answering. "Who you callin' bitch ... bitch?"

"It's a boy ... how sweet. Should have known, Derek ... you never were much use to a real woman, were you? Diverting as you were ..." Kate said as she pressed the baton against Derek's side.

This time, Stiles cried out with his mate as the shocks tore through his frame.

* * *

Derek couldn't believe that Stiles had figured out a way to rejoin him in the bond. Stiles had joined his mind to Derek's so easily it had been as if they were two people in one body. No matter what level of annoying he might be, Derek would never consider Stiles anything less than the most amazing human being he'd ever met. It was difficult even for mated werewolves to join minds like this ... and Stiles had not only managed that without blinking, he'd managed to _voluntarily_ do it when the bond released him back into his own head. Derek would have been all over Stiles if the teen had been there physically.

_It hurts, Derek ..._

_I know ... I'm so sorry ... but I need you ... please don't go ..._

_Not leaving ... what do you need me to do?_

_Brace yourself._

Derek had been crawling along the floor toward the ratty old sofa with Kate following him, a smug smile on her face. He hated that face. Once at the sofa, Derek pushed up and then launched himself at the evil vixen. Kate sidestepped him easily and the baton flicked out into his chest. Derek crashed to the floor again, this time convulsing from the electric shock. And in his house in Beacon Hills, Stiles lay motionless on his bedroom floor, eyes open and staring while his nose bled steadily.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: ****Warnings: some mild blood-play but if that's your squick be advised.**

* * *

_Stiles? STILES?_

Derek felt a faint movement within their bond. His wolf whined ... its mate was hurt. It had to help its mate.

_Stiles, baby ... talk to me ... please ..._

Kate chuckled and smirked down at the ripped body. The current had tightened all the muscles so they stood out in stark relief under the smooth skin. She smiled and looked at her baton.

"900,000 volts. You never were very good with electricity, were you? Or fire?" Kate laughed softly.

_Bitch ..._ Stiles' voice whispered.

Derek could have sobbed in relief. _Stiles ... are you ok?_

_Feelin' really tired, Derek ... just wanna sleep ..._

_No no no ... stay with me ... stay awake, babe. I'll come to you as soon as I can ... don't let go._

Stiles tried to project the affirmative but his thoughts were hazy. He could just understand what Kate was saying ... he decided he fully agreed with Derek's opinion that the woman needed to see the inside of an ambulance. Preferably in a body bag.

"Of course, this is why I'm gonna let you in on a little secret ... and maybe we can help each other out, hmm?"

Derek fought down the after effects of the baton and managed to push himself up a little. He didn't want to hear this woman's voice. Or the words. What she was saying seemed to sear across his brain ... what would Stiles think now? His mate ... how could he be worthy of ...

_Dude ... stop. You don't get ... to let her ... make you feel worthless. You're not ... not ... _

_Stiles?_

Derek could feel Stiles weakening. The bond was taking too much from the teenager. Derek didn't want to let go ... he selfishly wanted to keep this link open forever – but he knew he was endangering Stiles if he did. Brushing against Stiles' thoughts with as much love as he could muster, he groaned and released the link.

Nothing happened. Stiles remained in his head. He heard a weak chuckle.

_Yeah ... can't turn me loose ... I made the link ... I have to break it. Now shut up so I can hear her._

Derek snorted indignantly at the attitude but Kate was talking again and he made himself focus on her hated voice.

"Yes ... your sister was cut up into pieces and used as bait to try and catch you ... but, and this will really kick you in the balls ... we didn't do it."

Derek pushed himself into a sitting position against a door. He fought to keep his face expressionless. Kate appeared offended.

"You think I'm lying, handsome?" Kate asked.

Derek glared at her. "Wouldn't be the first time."

"Aww, sweetie. Well, why don't you listen to my heart and tell me if I am?" Kate leaned close until her breath washed across Derek's ear. "We. Didn't. Kill. Your. Sister. Hear that? There's no blips, no upticks ... just the steady beat of the cold, hard truth."

Kate stood and stood back as she regarded Derek with her hateful amused expression. Derek felt his heart falling in his chest.

_Easy ... I'm here._

Derek felt a warmth seeping into the hole the memories of all he'd lost caused in his heart. It wasn't a warmth that took away the pain ... but it blanketed it. Soothed away the hurt so that he could think clearly and logically without the emotions clogging his thoughts. Stiles ... amazing as always ... understood instinctively what Derek needed. He could envision the smirk on his mate's face.

_Yeah ... I'm awesome. Remember that._

_As if I could forget._

"We found bite marks on your sister's body, Derek," Kate was saying. "What do you think caused that? Hmm? A ... _mountain lion_?"

Derek frowned. He couldn't avoid it any longer. The alpha had killed Laura. Another werewolf had killed his sister.

_Derek ... m'sorry_ ...

Derek could feel Stiles growing weakness. _Stiles ... let go. Please ...don't ..._

The feeling of indignation and irritation that surged through him almost jerked a laugh out. He responded with as much warm gratitude as he could manage with a psycho bitch standing in front of him with the shock wand from Hell. Kate was talking again.

"Now ... why don't you tell me who did it and we'll take care of it for you? Everybody goes home happy." Kate said.

Derek digested what she'd said. Her eyes studied him and he saw the cunning mind behind them coming to a conclusion that didn't bode well for him.

"Hmm ... you don't know who he is either, do you?" Kate mused.

_Stiles ... let go now. I'm coming to you ... let go now, babe so I can do this._

_Do ... what? Derek what is she - ?_

Derek had no more time to explain. Kate grinned. "Well guess who just became totally useless?"

Derek was running even as the woman spun around with a small automatic weapon. He'd heard the click of her nails against the gun. He ran until he thought he couldn't run any farther. There was only silence in his link with Stiles. Derek glanced over his shoulder. He knew where he had to go now.

* * *

Stiles blinked as he came back to himself. His eyes were painfully dry as were his lips. When Stiles dragged his tongue over his lips, he tasted dried blood. His head felt like it might break into several small bits if he moved.

"Owww ..."

"Don't move," Came a deep, soft voice.

Stiles felt two arms slowly work themselves underneath him and lift him up like he weighed nothing. He focused slowly on the person holding him – Derek.

"Hey ... wolfie ..." Stiles murmured, his thoughts sliding into fog for a moment.

"Hey yourself," Derek sighed.

Putting Stiles down on his bed, Derek ran downstairs to get water and then went into the bathroom for a washcloth. He pressed it against Stiles face to soften the blood so that he could clean it off when Stiles sat up and kissed him.

Derek fell into the kiss without another thought. He'd had so many different emotions moving through him during the entire Kate incident he didn't have the wherewithal to pull back and be objective. He just wanted to know that Stiles was alright and safe. He opened to the kiss and then the taste of Stiles' blood hit him.

It was like a shot of adrenaline. The scent of Stiles blood distressed his wolf ... but the taste ... the taste did something completely different. Derek's wolf forced its way to the front and took over. With a growl, Derek shifted and began to drag his tongue across Stiles' face, neck and down to his chest ... wherever he could taste the copper bite of blood.

Stiles wanted to kiss Derek and – although he would deny it to his grave – he wanted Derek to wrap his long hard arms around him and never let go. Being dragged into a bond with Derek ... pulled out of his own head and into the mind of the man who called himself Stiles' mate ... it was disorienting to say the _least. _Stiles was adrift again – a sensation he was rapidly beginning to associate with his new found relationship. Somehow, Stiles did not think normal teenage romances were supposed to go like this. Not that Derek was a teenager and not that this was anywhere _near _normal.

Stiles had always believed that he and Scott were the closest that two people could be – they joked about being brothers, but Stiles really did believe they were brothers of a sort. However, now he looked at Derek and he couldn't imagine his existence without the man. More disconcerting was the fact that he didn't _want _to – Stiles didn't want to look too closely at why that might be. For now, Derek's warmth and solid body against his was exactly the balm he needed to push his fears away until he could examine the incident and analyze it objectively. So he'd pushed up, ignoring his headache and the blood staining his skin and shirt – and kissed Derek.

When the werewolf began to lick him, Stiles thought he should be grossed out ... instead, he found it incredibly hot. The growls and soft whines coming from Derek's throat were making Stiles' body respond and he wasn't inclined to stop. He'd never felt so out of control ... it was as his body belonged to someone else. Stiles tried to be concerned, but the sensation of Derek's tongue along the line of his neck made his worries seem inconsequential. He sighed and arched up to give Derek more of a surface to work on – the werewolf snarled and then kissed Stiles again. When Stiles tasted his own blood and the unique flavor of Derek ... he lost what little conscious control he had.

Stiles' hands tugged Derek's Henley free and he shoved it up and finally off. His own shirts followed and then Derek was working down his torso. Stiles bit his lower lip as the hot tongue slipped into his navel and then began to followed the faint line of hair down his lower abdomen to the top of his jeans. Derek looked up, he'd shifted back but his eyes kept their blue wolf aspect. Stiles groaned.

"Please ..."

Derek couldn't think beyond the howling of his wolf. Claim. Mate. Mine. The taste of Stiles' blood filled his head with this mantra and Derek only wanted to _feel_. He had Stiles' jeans off and his own followed not long after.

"So ... beautiful ... Stiles ..." Derek growled softly between placing soft kisses against the smooth skin on the inside of Stiles' thigh.

Stiles heard Derek's affectionate words and tried to believe them but it was hard. He wasn't beautiful or handsome or any of those things ... no one saw him. No one noticed him. He was invisible ... more so now that Scott had emerged as a star. Stiles felt suddenly very self-conscious and vulnerable.

Derek scented his mate's shift in mood. He moved back up to claim the soft lips and felt the body underneath him go pliant again. He pressed against the bond.

_Stiles ..._

_I'm not ... you could have anyone ..._

_Stiles ... my wolf wants __you__ ... needs __you__ ... _

_So take me already._

Derek whined. "Stiles ... I can't – I don't want to stop ... don't want ..."

Stiles raised his hips up and their erections slid hard against each other. He intended to push Derek toward taking action but the sensation was so intense, he exhaled sharply. His voice gradually sank into a soft moan. Derek bit back a savage snarl. Their eyes met, electric blue to whiskey gold – Stiles shivered at the sensation of falling. Derek kissed him and their link was suddenly stronger and clearer than before.

_Stiles ... I love you ... my mate ... mine_

_Make me yours ... Derek ... make me ..._

Derek froze. The sound of a car engine outside jerked him out of the haze of arousal and back to clarity. Derek groaned.

"Your dad ..."

"No ... no, don't go!" Stiles whined.

Derek sniffed and frowned. "Stiles, he's hurt."

Stiles sat up. "What? My dad?"

Derek was off the bed and dressing. His wolf was tearing at the wall he pushed up between himself and his mate. Stiles was pulling on his jeans as well and a clean t-shirt that wasn't soaked in blood. Derek moved across the room and pulled the teen against him, drawing out the pain of unfulfilled need. He pressed his nose against Stiles' neck just behind the ear.

"I'm not going anywhere. Check on your dad." Derek whispered.

"Derek ..."

Derek hushed him gently. "Go ... I'll be here when you're done."

* * *

Stiles walked back to his room after making sure his dad was alright. The car that had backed into him had caused serious bruising but nothing was broken. He would be ok. Stiles' anger toward Scott, however, peaked. He railed in soft whispers around his room.

"I can't believe it ... he left my dad alone ... he knows how dangerous the alpha is and he_ left my dad alone_!"

Derek, who'd come back in from the roof, was sitting on Stiles bed, shoes kicked off. He let the young man get his rage out as much as he could knowing the anger would pass and he'd direct it at himself next.

"Oh god ... I wasn't there either ... I was ..." Stiles turned wide eyes on Derek.

"You were with me, Stiles. Scott was with Allison. Neither of you did anything wrong ... Scott's in love ... he couldn't have known. Neither could you," Derek said easily.

Stiles dropped face-first on his bed with a groan. "I still should have -"

Derek reached over and gently raked his nails against Stiles' scalp. "Mate, if you had been, what would you have done? Possibly been killed by a crazed animal ... or at the very least badly injured. Your father is fine. And Scott ... I'll do what I can to prepare him better."

Stiles turned his head to look at Derek. "You ... we ... what _was_ that? Before?"

Derek sighed. "The bond between us ... by tasting your blood I set off my wolf. I don't know how much longer I can hold out, Stiles."

Stiles pushed up and moved to straddle Derek's lap. "Why do you have to?"

"Stiles ... it's not ..."

"Right? _This_ isn't right?" Stiles leaned in and kissed Derek softly. "_This_ isn't right?" Stiles' hand rested over Derek's thundering heart. "Derek ... after today I'm not sure I _want _to wait for what's _right_."

Derek returned the kiss slowly. "You're just a kid."

"Not really, my constantly changing wolf ... not really," Stiles murmured against his lips.

Derek rested his hands on Stiles' hips. Before his father's return, they'd been seconds away from consummating the relationship and all else be damned. He ran his thumbs over the soft skin just above Stiles' jeans. He made a decision.

"After the full moon, Stiles," Derek said softly.

Stiles' shoulders slumped slightly in disappointment. Derek smiled. "You do want me to keep Scott alive, right?"

"Let me get back to you on that," Stiles said before nipping softly at Derek's chin.


	16. Chapter 16

Derek watched Scott make his way through the parking garage. He sighed. He tried to remember if he'd been this clueless when he was Scott's age. Derek doubted it ... but then again, he'd been raised a werewolf. His senses were finely tuned long before he could even walk. Scott was like a new wolf cub ... not sure of its surroundings and tending to blunder into dangerous situations when left unattended. Unfortunately, Derek was not much of a den mother.

Scott went up another level still trying to find his car. Derek shook his head watching the young man. How did you forget where you parked? Even in a parking garage ... he wondered what Stiles would do in this situation. Derek had to refocus his thoughts quickly. Since their last encounter, simply thinking about his mate tended to pull his mind into ... distracting directions. He felt the fluttering presence of Stiles against the bond and smiled. Derek returned the touch and then went in search of Scott again.

Emerging from the shadows, Derek heard when Scott's milk container rolled under a car. Grinning, Derek sent it rolling back. The slashes left by his claws made white trails behind the bottle. Scott frowned at the bottle and several things happened at once after that. Scott scented Derek's wolf, he heard Derek's growl and he took off running. Derek released another growl and fell into fast pursuit. His wolf loved the chase and it had been so long since he'd had a chance to stretch. Derek growled happily as he scented fear coming off the boy in waves.

Scott skidded behind a car to hide. Derek pulled up short and listened. It was with some glee that he heard the pounding heartbeat. Derek prepared to bring Scott to ground when the kid did something rather clever. Unable to slow his heartbeat, Scott dashed over the hoods of several parked cars. Car alarms began to blare loudly, making Derek wince.

_Not bad, Scott. Not bad. _

Derek slowed and began to scent the air again, ignoring the racket. He could just about make out Scott's scent over the odors of oil, gas and other vehicle-related smells. He would have turned the wrong direction in his hunt when a phone ring dragged his attention back to Scott's exact location. He sprang, grabbing Scott by his hoodie and slamming him into a car hood. Pinning the other beta with his eyes, Derek announced, "You're dead!"

* * *

Scott followed Derek indignantly. "What the hell was that?!"

"I said I was going to teach you," Derek replied as he walked. He glanced over at Scott. "I didn't say when."

"You scared the crap out of me!"

Derek looked over again. "Not yet."

Scott groaned. He looked up expectantly. "Ok, but I was fast, right?"

"Not fast enough."

"The car alarm thing was smart, right?"

Derek chuckled. "Yeah until your phone rang."

"Yeah but that was ... I was - will you just _stop?!" _Scott snapped.

Derek pursed his lips and paused. Scott was pacing anxiously. "What happened ... the other night? Stiles' dad getting hurt? That was _my fault_! I should have been there to do something! I need you to teach me how to control this!"

Derek tried not to remember where he'd been himself at the time. "Scott, you wouldn't have been able to do anything against the alpha if he'd truly been there - you probably would have died. Beating yourself up over it won't change anything." Derek sighed. "Listen to me ... I am what I am because of birth. You were bitten. Teaching someone who was bitten takes time. I don't even know if I _can_ teach you."

Scott gaped. "What do I have to do?!"

Derek replied. "You have to get rid of distractions." He grabbed Scott's phone. "You see this? This is why I caught you. You want me to teach you? You get rid of her."

"Why? Because of her family?" Scott asked bitterly.

Derek took the phone and threw it against the far concrete wall where it disintegrated. Scott gaped at him.

"Getting angry?" Derek asked. "That's your first lesson. You want to learn how to control this? How to shift? You do it through anger. You need to tap into a primal animal rage and you can't _do _that with her around!"

"Don't worry Derek, I can _get _angry," Scott growled.

"Not angry enough," Derek barked. "This is the only way that I can teach you. Now ... can you stay away from her? At least until after the full moon?"

Scott frowned. "If that's what it takes, I can stay away from her."

"Do you want to live? Do you want to be able to protect your friends, yes or no?" Derek said.

"_Yes_," Scott snapped. "If you can teach me ... I can stay away from her. Are _you_ going to stay away from Stiles?"

"I don't have to worry about being distracted during the full moon," Derek replied.

"You don't know that … you've never been mated!" Scott protested.

"Worry about your own issues, Scott. Practice tomorrow. Do not be late." Derek said flatly.

Scott watched the werewolf walk away. Stiles wasn't speaking to him so he had no idea what had gone on between Derek and his best friend. The only thing he did know was that Stiles smelled like Derek nearly every day. So much so, Scott was beginning to wonder if their relationship had gone beyond the platonic. He tried not to think about it too heavily.

* * *

Derek pinned Stiles to the bed and tugged at the young man's shirt. Stiles managed to get it off and resume kissing Derek in one smooth movement. Derek inhaled deeply of his mate's clean, earthy scent. It drove him to suck several dark marks into Stiles' chest, enjoying the groans that followed each one. Derek knew he was playing with fire, but it was so hard to get through the day without doing anything more than barely touching the link they shared.

Derek originally meant to keep his distance until after the full moon. Those intentions went right out the window he entered through every time he was near his mate. Kissing Stiles until he couldn't breathe had turned out to be far more enjoyable than even Derek had expected. The full moon could not come fast enough.

Stiles writhed beneath him, his hands drifting up and down Derek's bared chest. Stiles' father wasn't home so Derek didn't bother stifling the growl that rumbled through him. Stiles groaned and arched up.

_Derek … nevermind the full moon … god I want you …_

_Patience, mate. It'll be worth it … promise …_

Derek had been amused by how much Stiles enjoyed the link between them now. Derek wished briefly that Stiles was a werewolf but he wouldn't push the choice on the young man. Between were-mates, the link was … well, Derek couldn't know but it was supposedly amazing. Stiles might never accept the Bite. Derek did not think he could love the young man any less but he couldn't fool himself into thinking it wouldn't be difficult. Human Stiles would be fragile and his life would be shorter than Derek's by quite a bit. Derek pushed the thoughts of the future aside for now.

In his usual quick-learn fashion, Stiles had taken to the link like he'd been born to it – he could connect and disconnect their bond so smoothly Derek barely felt it until he heard Stiles' mental 'voice'. Beyond the coolness factor, the link gave both of them comfort throughout the day. Stiles found it easier to focus and Derek found himself feeling just a little less … severe. Only a little, though – the situation was far too dangerous for him to let his guard down completely. Also, now that Kate knew he had a mate … Derek already planned to tear the bitch's throat out. If she harmed Stiles, he would pull her heart of her chest and show it to her.

_G_ _ot some awful dark thinkin' going on …_

Derek pulled back and smiled down at Stiles. Since accepting their mate status, Derek found himself allowing a smile to sneak out from time to time. But only when he was alone with Stiles.

Derek sighed. "Sorry … just thinking about Kate."

"Should I be bothered that you're thinking about your psycho bitch ex-girlfriend while we're makin' out?" Stiles asked with a frown.

Derek mouthed the tender skin in the hollow of Stiles' throat. "No … just worried about you. She doesn't know who you are but I have to be careful anyway."

"Aww … you care," Stiles teased.

Derek leaned in close to Stiles' ear. "Yes, I _care_, Stiles. You're my _mate_ … it's not something that's as mutable as human relationships. You're my life."

"Ok, first ... _mutable_? Did you get a word of the day calendar? Second ... why the hell is your possessive streak so fucking _hot_?" Stiles murmured.

Derek looked down at his mate's amber eyes. "It's hot because of our bond ... we _belong _together, Stiles. Anyone who tries to harm you will be a long time dying. Anyone who tries to take you from me will find out that I don't share. _All_ of you belongs to me ... or don't you believe me?"

Derek pressed his hips down so their erections grazed against one another. Stiles' breath stuttered and he released another groan.

"_Derek …_" Stiles gasped brokenly.

"Lesson number one … mates can do _this_," Derek said.

His eyes glowed neon in the dim light. Stiles, transfixed, couldn't look away. He felt the link between them thrum with barely controlled passion. Derek suddenly shifted and snarled – the sound seemed to reverberate through Stiles' body, centering in his cock. Stiles came with a harsh sobbing cry before he knew what was happening.

Derek grinned as Stiles' body bowed off the mattress with the force of his orgasm. Stiles liked to tease and he was very good at using the link between them for just that purpose. He consistently forgot, however, that Derek hadn't always been damaged goods. Once upon a time, he'd been a goofy sixteen-year-old overrun by his hormones much like Stiles was now. And back then, Derek had been _king_ of the teasing jerks. He gently brushed his nose against Stiles' neck as his mate came down into a boneless puddle beneath him. Stiles sun warmed scent filled his senses and a strange tenderness flowed through him.

"Dude …" Stiles mumbled.

Derek chuckled. "Assume no complaints?"

Stiles' thoughts were hazy and quickly drifting toward sleep. Derek huffed a soft laugh and rolled off his mate. He pressed a kiss to Stiles' cheek and left. Derek willed down his own erection. His needs would have to take a back seat for now ... there would be plenty of time later.

* * *

Before he went home, Derek decided to visit Scott briefly. He knew full well the teen hadn't gone straight home any more than he had – he'd been with his girlfriend. Derek sighed. This full moon was definitely going to be an interesting one. Finding Scott's window open, Derek entered easily and situated himself in the dark room. He reached out to Stiles' mind but had to withdraw quickly. Stiles was dreaming and the heat behind his thoughts was a little too strong for the older man.

Finally, Scott returned and Derek frowned at the teen's panic. Scott slammed his window shut and pulled down the blinds. When he seemed satisfied that whatever had him so spooked was gone, Scott clicked on the light ... and promptly jumped a foot in the air.

"You have _seriously_ got to stop _doing _that!" Scott complained.

Derek scented another werewolf around Scott and guessed who that might be. "So what happened? Did he talk to you?"

Scott snorted. "Yeah, we had a nice conversation about the weather ... _no_ he didn't talk!"

"Well? Did you get anything off him?" Derek asked, frustrated.

"What do you mean?"

Derek pushed up from the chair with an annoyed sound. He wondered, not for the first time, why it hadn't been his mate to receive the Bite. Stiles had figured out the link so quickly, Derek had little doubt the teen would have already determined what his senses could do and how to best use them. Scott, it appeared, was going to have to be led by the hand through this.

"Remember ... your other senses are heightened. Communication doesn't have to be _spoken_ ... what kind of feeling did you get from him?" Derek explained.

Scott appeared to consider this and he said, "Anger."

"Focused on you?"

"No ... not me. But it was definitely anger ... I could _feel_ it. Especially when he drew the spiral."

Derek felt a sudden chill race down his spine. "Wait ... what? What did you just say?"

"He drew this spiral on the window of my car ... in the condensation," Scott answered. He frowned at Derek. "What? You have this look like you know what that means?"

Derek moved past Scott. "No," he muttered absently. "No, it's nothing."

Scott turned, irritated. "Wait wait wait ... wait a second! You _can't_ do that! You can't ask me to trust you and then just keep things to yourself."

"It doesn't mean anything," Derek lied, opening the door.

"You buried your sister under a spiral," Scott said. "What does it mean?"

Derek turned back, his expression flat. "You don't want to know."

Derek spent the night tossing and turning. He awoke in a foul mood but laughed out loud when his link with Stiles was filled with an indignant squawk – Stiles realizing that he'd come in his jeans and slept that way.

Yep … Stiles had a little bit to learn yet about teasing, Derek thought. But his mood lightened just a bit and he felt that maybe things weren't as dark as they seemed.

* * *

Scott sighed as he entered the classroom. Stiles met his eyes briefly but then refocused them on the front of the room. Scott plopped down into the seat behind his friend. He sighed and leaned forward.

"Still not talking to me?"

Stiles remained silent.

"Can you at least tell me if your dad's ok? It's just a bruise, right? Some, uh ... soft tissue damage?" Scott pressed. "I mean ... you know I feel bad about it, right?"

Stiles did not respond. He could hear the desperation in Scott's voice and part of him wanted to reassure his friend but his anger was too close to the surface. Scott knew how much his dad meant ... losing his mom had left Stiles very vulnerable when it came to any harm befalling his father. He trusted Scott ... and he felt very betrayed. Reaching out, he brushed against the link with Derek.

_You know he would have protected your father if he'd been there ... he's new at this,_ Derek's reply whispered in his mind.

Stiles' anger flared anew. _Like I have a fucking clue what I'm doing? Besides ... look where I was while dad was getting run over ... naked with my fucking boyfriend!_

Stiles broke the link between them and frowned at his textbook. He could hear Scott talking again.

"Stiles, what would you say if I told you I'm trying to figure something out and ... and that I went to Derek for help?"

Stiles froze. Derek hadn't mentioned anything about that. Apparently today was going to be a day of unpleasant realizations. He sighed.

"If I was talking to you, I'd tell you that you're an idiot for trusting him," Stiles said. "But obviously I'm not talking to you."

_I'm an idiot for thinking I could trust __either__ of you,_ Stiles thought irritably. He struggled with his emotions for a bit before finally rounding on Scott. He had to know what Derek and his best friend had discussed.

"What did he say?"


End file.
